Forgiveness
by Kitty Montague
Summary: Set five years after the end of Season 6. After Spike's departure, Buffy never heard from him again. Now a new danger threatens the world, and Buffy must ask Spike for help. Feedback welcome. At long last, I've completed it!
1. The More Things Change

TITLE: Forgiveness  
DISCLAIMER: Surprisingly enough, I don't own any of this. ME and Joss do. But I can pretend.  
THE STORY: Set five years after the end of Season 6. Buffy never heard from Spike again after he left. Now a new danger threatens the world and everything that she has worked for is endangered. Spike and Angel are the only ones that can help.  
FEEDBACK: Please. In fact, I'd love some serious reviews on what you think works and what doesn't in my writing.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE - THE MORE THINGS CHANGE  
  
Buffy felt pretty damn good as she made her way down the sidewalk towards the town centre.  
  
If she'd been the singing kind, she probably would have burst into song right about now. Oh what a beautiful morning or something like that. Fortunately for the populace, she wasn't the singing kind.  
  
Instead, Buffy silently counted her blessings.  
  
First of all, it was a beautiful spring morning, with the sun shining in a clear blue sky, birds singing, children playing, and all that kind of thing.  
  
Secondly, she had just spoken to Dawn on the phone, and her sister was planning to get way from college life for a while and come stay for the weekend. Buffy still found it hard to accept that her little sister was old enough to be a student at Sunnydale U, but there it was. It wasn't often that Dawn would take the weekend off to come visit, and Buffy couldn't wait to see her again.  
  
Thirdly, she had despatched four vampires last night to meet their maker, which was cause for a good mood in itself. But even more pleasing was the fact that demon activity in Sunnydale at the moment seemed to be down. Maybe she was actually winning the battle.  
  
And finally, she didn't have any work to prepare over the weekend for next week. So she was as free as the proverbial bird.  
  
Life, all round, was pretty sweet. Buffy didn't like to think the thought - well, out loud, as such - but it finally seemed that things were starting to fall into place. It wasn't perfect, of course, but Buffy was old enough now to realise that it never was. It was getting pretty close, though, and after that terrible year when Tara had died five years ago, and everything else she held dear had fallen apart, Buffy thought she was entitled to a little bit of rightness.  
  
As she turned into the street towards the Magic Box, Buffy felt a smile creeping across her face. She considered for a moment, and then decided not to fight it. Let the rest of the world think her mad. She was happy, dammit, and she didn't care who knew.  
  
****  
  
Alison looked around the Magic Box, checking that everything was in order before unlocking the door to the bright Saturday morning outside.  
  
Shelves dusted? Check. Cash register organised? Check. Stock displayed appropriately? Check. Rupert Giles sitting at the table engrossed in an ancient tome? Check.  
  
Satisfied that all was as it should be, Alison crossed to the doors, drawing back the heavy bolt and propping the door open to let in the fresh spring air.  
  
For a while, the peace of the shop was broken only by a few quiet customers, the ringing of sales, and the whisper of the page turning as Giles continued reading.   
  
Then, right on cue, the peace was shattered.  
  
"Good morning, everybody!" A cheery Buffy bounded into the store, smiling in Alison's direction before collapsing in a seat next to Giles. "How are we all on this oh-so-beautiful Saturday day?"  
  
"What?" Giles looked up from his book, that look on his face that Alison had come to know so well, the one that revealed his confusion at finding himself in the Magic Shop instead of whatever strange world he had been reading about. "Oh, good morning Buffy. Is it ten o'clock already?"  
  
"On the dot," Alison confirmed, joining them at the table with a tea tray.  
  
Buffy watched with pleasure as the familiar Saturday morning ritual unfolded - the judicious trickle of just the right amount of milk into the enormous blue mugs, the careful pouring of the tea through the tea-strainer, the steady stirring in of sugar for herself and Alison, and finally the ceremonious handing over of the mug. She enjoyed the ritual more than the tea itself, truth be told, but it had become a Saturday morning tradition since Alison had moved to Sunnydale, into the Magic Shop, and into their lives two years ago. Buffy wouldn't have forgone it for the world.  
  
Buffy liked Alison. She was a petite, pretty, dark-haired woman, in her mid-thirties, who Buffy had decided was perfect for both the Magic Box, and for Giles. Since moving to Sunnydale after the death of her husband, she had been a most knowledgeable assistant in the shop and a fine addition to the Scoobies. With a smattering of magic knowledge and a calm, level head, Alison had proved perfect in any way. Buffy was pleased to note that Giles seemed to think so as well, in his own quiet, diffident way.  
  
It was hard to imagine a time before Alison.  
  
"Thank you, Alison," Giles murmured, taking his mug without looking up. He was still engrossed in his book, and Buffy felt a dark foreboding that threatened the sunny day. Usually, Giles would push aside whatever book he was reading or accounts he was studying while they drank their tea, in order to talk with her about the latest danger in Sunnydale and make plans for the week ahead. It was a time that Buffy thoroughly enjoyed, reporting on her latest slayings, and watching Giles and Alison pretend not to watch each other.  
  
Today, however, Giles didn't seem able to tear his attention away from the book.   
  
"Watcha reading, Watcher?" she asked flippantly, hiding her sudden fear.  
  
"Oh, nothing - nothing." Giles seemed to become aware of her gaze, quickly shutting the book, but keeping a hand resting on it as though he couldn't bear to lose contact. "Nothing for you to worry about, Buffy."  
  
"Giles. I have known you for ten long years. I can tell that there's something," Buffy told him. "Glasses are being polished. The little crease is appearing in the forehead. And the clincher - tea is being ignored. Something must be muchos wrongus. So, spill."  
  
Giles gave a wry chuckle. She did know him far too well for him to hope to hide anything. He replaced his glasses and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"I've been picking up the portents for a few months now," he admitted, rubbing the worry line in his forehead wearily. "The most recent was last night, I'm afraid. It proved conclusively that the Hellioan prophecy is coming to pass."  
  
Buffy sighed gustily in exaggerated exasperation. "And what, exactly, is the Hellie-whatever prophecy?"  
  
"Well, it's an extremely old prophecy from a religious cult in the time of ancient Greece," Giles began. "It's unusual in being very specific. It refers to a number of signs - eclipses, weather patterns, and so on. Last night's sign was a particular and rare pattern of celestial alignment. The final sign it describes is an earthquake, and then it details that the time has come for the old ones to reclaim the earth."  
  
Buffy frowned, wondering why Giles was so worried. "Come on Giles, it's not as though we've never heard that one before. Return of the Apocalypse. Apocalypse Now, Again. Part 2. We defeat it, save the world again, keep it a secret, and wait for next year's 'end of the world'. What's the big?"  
  
"Buffy, I've never seen a prophecy as detailed and exact as this one," Giles said. He closed the volume with a slam. "And it's the very last prophecy recorded by this cult. As though - there was no more to record of the future after this one was fulfilled." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Also, it refers to an important role played by a certain group of vampires. One that we know fairly well." He looked at Buffy. "The Order of Aurelius."  
  
"Aurelius? Are you sure?"  
  
"Of course I'm sure." Irritably, Giles opened the book. "Roughly translated, it says:  
  
"On the night of the full moon the earth shall shake with fear.  
  
The old ones shall return to the earth  
Back to the beginning  
Back where they belong.  
Brought back by the leader of Aurelius  
To claim what was theirs.  
  
And the earth shall no longer be home to mankind.  
  
Only if the Empress of Night-time leads the way  
Only if the three of sadness come together  
Only if the two hands guide the shade  
Will the doorway remain closed.  
  
"Ok, so definitely Aurelius," said Buffy grudgingly. "So why don't we just call Angel, get the inside scoop?"   
  
"I've already spoken with Angel," Giles replied, and Buffy was silenced for a moment. It still bothered her that Angel had more contact with Giles these days than with her.  
  
"Right. So, um, what did he say?"  
  
"He couldn't help," Giles admitted. "He's not exactly kept in the loop, he says. He did have another idea though." Giles paused again, removing his glasses for a quick polish. He looked up at Buffy, then returned his attention to his cleaning.  
  
Buffy waited, eyebrows raised. Giles sighed and replaced his glasses.  
  
"He suggested we ask Spike."  
  
Spike ....  
  
Buffy froze. Against her will, memories swirled around her, and long-forgotten emotions washed over her - anger, frustration, disgust, fear, hate. She swallowed hard, forcing down the memories of that terrible time five years ago, when she had been trying to cope with her own return from the dead, with creating a home for Dawn without her mother, with Giles' absence, with Spike's attack and departure, with Tara's death, and with Willow's horrific descent into dark magicks. After a few seconds, she felt the world stop spinning and settle back into place around her.  
  
"Ask who?" she finally asked, her voice hard. To her ears, it seemed to come from a long time ago.  
  
"Ask Spike, Buffy," Giles said calmly. He met Buffy's eyes steadily and they regarded each other silently for a moment. An understanding borne of their years of friendship and regard passed between them, and Buffy gave a slight nod, accepting that Giles had good reason for bringing up the name of Spike.  
  
"Why would Spike help? We don't even know where he is -" She caught a glint in Giles' eyes. "You know where he is, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I do," Giles admitted. "I've known for about two years. I wasn't going to tell you unless you asked me. But I feel that it's necessary now."  
  
Unable to sit still any longer, Buffy surged to her feet, pacing the room.  
  
Spike.   
  
Even now, she felt a wave of nausea when she thought about him. Logically, she knew that the feeling wasn't just due to him, but just as much to everything else that had been happening at that time. But it was just easier to blame Spike. It always was.  
  
For a while, she had expected him to return, as they all tried to get their lives together after that awful year. It had taken a long time, but recently Buffy had begun to feel as though they had all moved on, and had created a life for themselves that had left the darkness behind. Now, in a simple sentence, Giles was threatening a peace that she had not realised was so fragile.  
  
A frown marred Buffy's brow as she thought back over the past five years, following Tara's tragic death and Willow's attempt to avenge her and end the world.  
  
Willow had spent some time in England with Giles, recovering from both the physical and psychological effects of what she had done. To this day, Buffy still had no idea how Giles had dealt with the authorities in the aftermath of Warren's murder and Willow's attack on the police station, and she would never ask. Willow had returned after a year, a pale, quiet girl who was only now beginning to show flashes of the old Willow's personality. Her time with the witches' coven had taught her to control the magic that was an inextricable part of her, and she spent part of each day in meditation, as well as keeping in constant contact with the coven. She still lived with Buffy, working as a computer freelancer and paying much needed rent to supplement Buffy's meagre income.   
  
Xander and Anya had spent the next six months ignoring each other, then trading verbal snipes, before settling into an uneasy friendship. Eventually, however, Anya had started to see someone else, and Xander had been devastated. It was only after Anya had left Sunnydale with her new boyfriend that Buffy had started to see a return to the funny, thoughtful boy she had known at school.  
  
As for Dawn - Buffy had no idea what she would have done without her little sister. Dawn had proved a tower of strength, helping Buffy out as much as she could, working hard at school, convincing the social workers that she was best staying in Sunnydale with her sister.   
  
Giles had also been a rock to cling to. He had returned with Willow from England, taking back his old role at the Magic Shop and in Buffy's life. Buffy had managed to finish a teaching degree by correspondence course and finally leave the fast food industry, securing a job at Sunnydale Junior School teaching seven year olds.   
  
Spike had been pushed back into the farthest recesses of her mind, and when Buffy did think about him, she found that she assumed he was dead.  
  
And now, Giles was forcing him back into her mind, back into her life ...  
  
Turning back to Giles, Buffy studied him for a moment. He was watching her calmly enough, although she could detect a slight tension in the way he sat.  
  
"So why do you think Spike would help us?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Angel seems to think he would," Giles replied, but Buffy got the feeling he was holding back on her.  
  
"And why would Angel think that?" she continued to prod.  
  
Giles sighed, removing his glasses again. "Buffy - it's not really my story to tell. I think - I think we should go to Los Angeles. See Angel. See Spike. Decide what the best course of action is."  
  
Buffy frowned. Why was Giles being so secretive? What did he mean, it wasn't his story to tell? She debated pushing further, trying to get Giles to spill, then abruptly decided against it. If this was the way he wanted to do it, then she would go along with it.  
  
"Fine then. Let's go."  
  
Giles looked at her in surprise. "Now? You want to go now?"  
  
"No time like the present!" Buffy said cheerfully. "I've got the car here, all full of fuel, ready to go. You call Angel and let him know we're on our way. I'll call Willow and let her know I won't be back till tonight. And we'll hit the road."  
  
"Well." Giles turned to Alison who had been watching them silently, sipping her tea. "Will you be all right to hold the fort here?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Well. Well then. Yes, let's go now. I'll meet you at the car in five minutes, shall I Buffy?"  
  
"Five minutes," Buffy confirmed, pulling her cell phone from her bag as Giles headed out to the private office to ring Angel.  
  
TBC 


	2. The More They Stay The Same

****

CHAPTER TWO - THE MORE THEY STAY THE SAME

They had been on the road for an hour, the landscape streaming past at a steady speed, the black highway punctuated by the flickering white road markings. Buffy wound her window down another inch, enjoying the fresh spring air that poured in her open window, stroking through her hair. Since finally getting her driver's licence a year earlier, she now wondered what had taken her so long. She enjoyed driving, especially on beautiful days like this one.

Beneath her good feelings, though, a surge of darkness was beginning to rise, and despite a conscious effort not to think about it, Buffy's mind was dwelling on Spike. Giles' conversation with Angel had resulted in the plan of going to see Spike immediately, and Buffy was finding it hard to believe that, within a couple of hours, she would be facing Spike again.

The last time she had seen him ...

__

Tiredness and pain, soaking through every bone in her body and every cell of her brain. The effort of moving, dragging herself up the stairs. The temptation to collapse into bed finally subsumed by the beckoning siren song of a long hot bubble bath. The cold white tiles, the muffled roar of the tub filling with water, and then the jump of the heart as he starts to speak, unexpected, behind her ...

The struggle ... unable to believe that this is really happening. Slayer strength against vampire strength, but he still in his human visage, and she ...she, also, trapped by her human facade, struggling ineffectively against him, unable to break free, unable to fight as the Slayer against this all-too-human attack. Until finally, at last, at long last ...

He crashes back against the cabinet, dazed, confused. And her first words, her reproach to him ... yet again, she has forgotten what he is, she forgets that he is a monster, that he is evil, and her reproach is to the man ... "Ask me again why I can never love you" ...

Only later does she remember to remind herself that he doesn't know any better, that he is worse than an animal ...

It helps, a little. But not much. She hates to feel vulnerable, to lose control, to feel threatened, and that night Spike did more than attack her physically ... he damaged, irretrievably, a little bit of her faith in herself and her abilities ...

"Buffy, are you all right?"

Buffy roused herself at Giles' voice. "Yeah, sure, I'm fine." She stretched her back, shook her hair back, concentrated on the road. 

Giles regarded her silently for a moment. "Buffy, I wouldn't have suggested doing this if I didn't think you were strong enough to do so," he told her. "A year ago, I don't think I would have asked you to face Spike. But you've regained so much of your inner strength lately that I felt it was time. But if you feel differently ..."

"No," she said forcefully, as much to herself as to Giles. "I'll be fine. We need to do this. He may be able to help us."

Silence reigned again for a few minutes.

"So. You've known about Spike for two years?" she finally asked. At Giles' nod, she continued; "And Angel has known as well."

"Angel knew for about a year before he told me," Giles replied absently, staring out the window. 

"Who else knows?"

That got his attention. His head whipped around to look at her, and a look startlingly like that of a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar crept over his face.

"Um. Well. I suppose - Dawn also knows." The words came out slowly.

"DAWN knows?" It was the last person that Buffy would have expected, but ... Dawn had once had a very close bond with Spike, one that Buffy had never been able to understand. "How?"

"Last year, when she was staying with your father - she dropped in on Angel unexpectedly. Spike was there." A sound suspiciously like a snort came from Giles. "I believe that it was an encounter that Spike was lucky to survive. Dawn, well, shall we say she wasn't very happy with him."

"No," Buffy muttered in amused agreement. Since Dawn had found out about Spike's actions during that last night he was in Sunnydale, Buffy couldn't remember hearing Spike's name cross her sister's lips once.

The two lapsed into silence again for the remainder of the trip. As they pulled up outside Angel's latest headquarters, a refurbished warehouse in a newly fashionable area of the city, Buffy found that she was actually feeling nervous. It had been almost a year since she had last seen Angel, but she knew that the butterflies were caused more by the thought of facing Spike again, than by seeing the person she had once believed was the love of her life.

"We're just going to pick Angel up, then go over to Spike's," Giles told her as she tried to manoeuvre into a too-small parking space.

"Now you tell me," Buffy mumbled as she gave up on trying to park and stopped, half in and half out of the spot. Slayer skills did not include the ability to reverse park. She twisted to see Angel, protected by a blanket, sprint to the car and leap into the back seat. She bit back a chuckle. Angel hated being out in sunlight, aware that running around under a blanket looked somewhat undignified. Now, he huddled into the centre of the back seat, arranging the blanket over any exposed skin.

"Buffy. Giles." he greeted them once he was settled.

  
"Angel," Giles replied in kind, and finally Buffy gave in to a much-needed eye roll. Laconic much?

"Good afternoon, Angel," she said uber-polite. "How are you today?"

He shot her a confused look. "I'm - fine, Buffy. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Angel. Thank you so much for asking." Her point made, she turned around the face the road again. "So. Where to now?"

Angel and Giles exchanged bemused looks, then Angel directed her through the warren of streets of downtown LA.

"Did you manage to reach Spike?" Giles asked, twisting in his seat to face Angel.

"I couldn't get hold of him," Angel answered, tilting to the left to avoid a stray sunbeam as they rounded the corner. "But he should be home at this time."

Buffy's hands clenched on the steering wheel. This was surreal. How had her day gone from morning-tea-ritual-at-the-Magic-Box to visiting-vampire-who-attempted-to-rape-you-five-years-ago?

With a start, she realised that Angel was instructing her to pull into an underground parking garage underneath an enormous, modern glass-and-steel apartment complex.

"Spike lives here?" she asked in disbelief, craning her neck to look up the glittering expanse of building as they drove past and into the parking area.

"Yeah," Angel answered, oblivious to her surprise. He climbed out the car, relegating the blanket to the floor with ill-concealed disgust.

"Wow," Buffy said under her breath. She had expecting something dank and mouldy, like his old crypt, not a spacious and expensive-looking apartment. 

Silently, the three entered the mirrored lift and Buffy watched Angel push the button for the fifteenth floor. Whisper-quiet, the lift rose and after a few seconds the doors slid open to reveal a hallway boasting plush carpets, a deep couch, and four heavy wooden doors leading to the apartments.

Angel led the way to the farthest door and rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. Flanked by Giles and Angel, Buffy's heart rose to her throat as she heard movement behind the door. Any second now ...

And then it swung open.

It wasn't Spike.

TBC


	3. Spinning Around

****

CHAPTER THREE - SPINNING AROUND

This person standing it front of her - it couldn't be Spike.

He looked nothing like the arrogant peroxided vampire she had once known so well.

The tousled hair - longer, darker, no longer slicked back but falling in soft, dark gold waves all over his head.

The clothes - a soft grey long-sleeved T-shirt that clung to his torso, and a pair of well-worn, supple denim jeans. Bare white feet, peeking out at the bottom, made him seem vulnerable.

The look in his eyes - she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something there was different. Darker. Deeper. They flicked from Angel to Giles to her, and stayed.

The expression on his face - uncertain, slightly anxious. There was a stillness about him that was all wrong.

But as she looked closer, she saw past the superficial changes ...

Those enviable cheekbones - they were as familiar to her as her own. The full lower lip, the hard planes of his chest visible in the way his shirt draped against his body, the scar on the eyebrow, the hollow in the cheeks, the sharp jaw line. The same porcelain skin and long dark eyelashes. The graceful slouch in the doorway, the head tilt. The long-fingered hand gripping the doorframe ...

She swallowed hard and looked back into those blue eyes.

*****

He clutched the doorframe, the fanciful thought flitting through his mind that if he let go then he would fall. He was aware of the two figures on either side of the tiny one in front of him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

"Buffy," he breathed. A whisper of sound. _She was here._

He had thought that he remembered her perfectly, that she was engraved in his memory, but now, when she stood in front of him after so long, he saw how flawed his memory had been. He'd forgotten so much - not the colour of her eyes or the natural pout of her lips, but her defiant stance, her delicate scent, the grave expression in her eyes. 

His gaze collided with hers, and he couldn't tear his eyes away. He was drowning in her ..._I'm drowning in you, Summers ..._ drowning in the feelings and emotions that only she could evoke. Had she come to stake him? He found that he didn't really care. Once, he had believed he knew every thought and emotion that she experienced. Now, he knew better, and was unable - didn't dare - to read anything from her expression or in her eyes. 

Time seemed to slow, whispering past, just the two of them standing in the middle untouched and unbreathing ... no one else around.

The spell was broken by Giles, who cleared his throat and glanced over Buffy's head to Angel.

"Perhaps Angel and I should wait over there," he suggested, gesturing behind him to the sofa outside the lift doors. "Let you two - catch up..."

He trailed off as he realised how inappropriate the words were, but to his surprise Buffy nodded.

"Give us five minutes," she directed, and silently Giles and Angel moved away.

No sound had crossed Spike's lips since he had opened the door except her name, and he said nothing now as he stepped aside, allowing her to enter his apartment.

Buffy stepped inside and looked around curiously. A large room, with neutral painted walls, polished wooden floors, and at the window wooden Venetian blinds that were tilted to allow light but no sun to enter. A modern, stainless steel kitchenette in one corner, an enormous bed in an alcove, a large flat screen television in front of one of those black leather recliner chairs. A sofa tucked to one side. A single door, leading to what she presumed was a bathroom.

The only thing here that reminded her of the old Spike was the incongruity of dozens of candles scattered around on every available surface. And - she looked closer and couldn't restrain a smile. It was the ancient 'Kiss the Librarian' mug on the kitchen counter, cracks in the handle showing that at some point it had broken and been carefully glued back together. Aside from the mug and the candles, there was nothing personal in the room.

She turned to face him. He stood in front of the now-closed door, watching her silently, expectantly. Waiting - for what?

She gave him a half-smile. "I'm not here to stake you Spike."

He looked blank for a split-second, then breathed out in a ghost of a chuckle, rubbing his hands through his hair. "Wouldn't have surprised me." A beat. "Wouldn't have blamed you."

He moved a few paces into the room, tentative. "So why are you here?"

Buffy turned away from him, taking a few minutes to get back her composure, perching on the arm of the black leather chair before looking back at him. "Giles - he's found something, we need to talk to you about it." She waved a hand impatiently through the air. "He can tell you about that. I needed to talk to you first." She paused, looking at him again, still standing just inside the door. He was motionless, calm, completely unlike the Spike she had known so well. "I haven't heard anything about you in five years, Spike. Then, out of the blue, Giles is suggesting we talk to you. I don't know what to think. I don't know what you've been doing. I don't know anything. And I need to know."

His eyes shot to hers. "Rupert didn't tell you?"

Buffy shook her head. "He didn't tell me anything. He said - it wasn't his story to tell." Her gaze remained on him, waiting. Silent.

"No. Well." Finally, he was pacing, fidgeting. "Better make yourself comfortable, then."

Buffy slid into the chair, curling her legs up under her. Her eyes didn't leave him.

"To begin at the beginning ..." He lowered himself onto the sofa, then almost immediately got to his feet again, pacing in tight controlled circles in front of her. That was familiar. The graceful, predatory prowl. In stark contrast to his halting, reluctant words. "The beginning - that night, the night that I - attacked you ..."

__

Cold tile, cold skin ... shame, confusion ... disgust, horror ... always the horror ...

"Afterwards, when I went back home ... I don't really know what was going on in my head. I can't remember ... it was all confusion. I remember feeling guilty. I was - horrified by what I had done. Angry at myself. Angry at what I had done to you, as well as angry that I felt guilty about it. Cause if I was a monster, then why was I guilty? It meant that I wasn't really a monster ... but then, only a monster would have done what I had. It was going round and round in my head, first one feeling, then the other, then back again, round and round..."

He took a deep breath before continuing. The words were coming easier now, flowing from him in confession. "I decided I had to do something, change things, change myself, in a way that you would recognise. I was so sure that there was something there, you see, something that you refused to acknowledge. I thought that if I could change the one thing about me that was causing you to hold you back, then everything would be fine.

"So I went to this demon I had heard about. In Africa. I wanted to - I wanted a soul. So that I could walk up to you and say 'Here I am. Not just an evil soulless thing, you see. As good as your precious Angel'." He stood up straight as he said this, hands raised at his sides in supplication. "I thought it would make you see - that I had really changed. Before. That having a soul made no difference to my feelings for you. Just allowed me to become something that you could admit to loving ..."

He sat down again, collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Oh, God ..." Covering his face with his hands, he was silent for a long minute.

Buffy could only stare at him in silence. _Spike went to get a soul. For me. He wanted a soul ... he got a soul ..._ She felt almost light-headed. She had thought her day was surreal before ... Could this really be happening?

Just as Buffy began to feel as though she would have to say something to break the suffocating silence, Spike lifted his head and continued speaking, his eyes averted, staring at his hands. Jerkily, as though he was reciting. "To cut a long story short. I found this demon. Got through the trials. Got back my soul. I don't remember too much about it. Or afterwards. I was out of it for months. Hallucinating. It was about a year later I came back to myself. I was in Morocco. Squatting in a deserted building somewhere. Surviving on butcher's blood. Don't really know why I bothered. Suppose the survival instinct is still strong. I think - I think I didn't want to die on my own. Die alone. Again." He swallowed hard. Another useless breath. "I had this one thought - to come back here. I got this idea in my head - go to Angel. Didn't know what he would do. Didn't really care. One way or another he would help me - help me live with my soul, or else put me out of my misery. Didn't really care."

He paused again, rubbing his hands over his face and hair in a gesture that was becoming familiar. Buffy kept silent, still digesting his words. _Got his soul, got his soul_. She tried to imagine what it must have been like, and knew that she could never comprehend the pain and the anguish that must have caused. It went against everything she had ever believed, and in spite of herself she felt stirrings of respect for the vampire in front of her.

"I told Angel everything - everything that had happened," Spike said, glancing quickly at Buffy before looking back at his hands. "Almost did get staked, then. And again, when Rupert came after Angel contacted him. I don't know what stopped them - still don't know. But - they decided to help me instead. Angel has been ... I couldn't have survived without Angel's help. I don't know how he coped for so long on his own after he was cursed with his soul. The horror, the self-loathing ... it eats you up. I finally understood everything you had been trying to tell me. There was no way I could ever face you again. I made Angel and Giles promise that they would never tell you ... they promised, on the condition that if you ever asked then they would have to let you know. I never expected you would ask ... you must have been thanking your lucky stars that I had finally left you in peace ..."

His voice trailed off, and for a long time there was silence. Then Spike spoke again.

"I'm glad you're here now," he said softly. "I need to say something to you, Buffy. I know you could never forgive me, I don't expect that. But I do need you to know how sorry I am about what I did - what I tried to do. Nobody should ever go through something like that, and the fact that I did it to you, to the person that I loved ..." He spread his hands helplessly. "I just need you to know that I'm so sorry."

"I do forgive you," Buffy said, surprising herself. _She forgave him? When did that happen? _"I hadn't - up until just now. I would have thought it was impossible - but now, it doesn't hurt any more. I can tell that you are sorry. I think I knew you were sorry at the time. And so - I do forgive you."

They regarded each other in silence for a moment, relearning all that they had forgotten. A soft knock at the door roused them, and Spike got to his feet.

"Angel and Ripper must be wondering if we've killed each other," he said wryly, and sure enough the expression on Giles' face when he opened the door was one of relief.

"It's all right, Rupert, everyone's still alive," Spike said, gesturing the two into the room. "So how bout you tell me what's going on."

Giles glanced between Buffy and Spike, checking that everything was all right before speaking.

"We think there's a new danger threatening the Hellmouth," he finally said. "It's something to do with the Order of Aurelius. We need to know if you've heard anything, picked up any news or rumours."

Buffy held up her hand, reluctant to interrupt but needing to ask. "Why would Spike know any more than Angel?"

Giles turned exasperated eyes towards Spike. "I thought you'd explained everything."

Spike leaned back on the sofa. "Didn't quite get that far before you came on the rescue mission." He glanced at Buffy. "We've kept news about my soul quiet. I spend most of my time on the streets, so to speak, and anything useful I hear I pass on to Angel. That kind of thing."

"Like a double agent?" Buffy asked, and his lips twitched. 

"Something like that, yeah." He turned back to Giles. "And in answer to your question, no, I haven't heard anything. But then the fact that I'm chipped would probably stop me getting the latest newsletter or an invite to a family reunion. I'm almost a much of a black sheep in the family as Angel."

"Marvellous," sighed Giles. "So we have nothing."

"Maybe there is one thing." Spike paused for a moment, considering. "Maybe. I did hear of a few vampires back in town. Or coming to town. Old family members. Including Drusilla. I hadn't thought before, but sounds like a good old get together."

"Then let's recap," Buffy said. "We have an ancient prophecy. We have signs to show that it's coming to pass. We have insane vampires heading into town. But we have no idea how to stop it or even when it's going to happen." She looked around. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, I think that about sums it up," Giles replied dryly.

"Well, we can be pretty sure it's going to be in Sunnydale, at the Hellmouth," Angel volunteered. "Maybe we should all head over there, see if we can find anything that's going on."

Giles looked almost eager. "That would be extremely helpful. Can you leave things here for a few days?"

Angel and Spike exchanged glances, then both nodded.

"I need to make a few calls, get a few things together. We'll make our own way down, meet you there," Angel suggested.

"Excellent." Giles stood, efficiency personified. "Do you need us to arrange somewhere to stay?"

"I've still got the mansion there," Angel said. "We can bunk down there for a few nights."

"Very good. Why don't we see you at Buffy's at about half past-nine. Well then." He turned to Buffy. "Shall we head off?"

"Very good," she echoed, feeling as though she was in some kind of alternate universe. _One, Angel and Spike in the same room and not trying to kill each other. Two, Giles treating them both as equals. Three, a prophecy that has Giles in a spin_. Coupled with the story she had just heard, she was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. She turned to her Watcher. "Why don't you drive home, Giles."

TBC


	4. Come Together

****

CHAPTER FOUR - COME TOGETHER

Dawn had arrived by the time Buffy got home, and was ensconced in the kitchen with Willow comparing notes on psych lectures. They looked up as Buffy entered, long dark-red hair next to long light brown hair, two pairs of enormous eyes regarding her. _Sometimes Dawn looks more like Willow than like me_, Buffy thought, swinging her bag into the corner.

"Hey, Buffy," Willow greeted her with a smile. "Rough day?"

"Not too bad," Buffy replied. She walked across to Dawn, slipping an arm around her for a brief hug. The younger girl almost towered over her now, but Buffy would never stop feeling protective of her little sister. "How are you, Dawnie? How's college life?"

"Not too bad," Dawn answered. "Pretty boring, I guess. No psychotic lecturers trying to take over the world or anything like that."

"Yeah, sounds dull," Willow said, shaking her head sadly. "You young things. You don't know you've lived until your teacher tries to turn you into Frankenstein's monster. Right, Buff?"

"It's an important part of college life," Buffy agreed. She shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. As much as she had been looking forward to seeing her sister, she suddenly felt the need for some alone time. "Um, Giles has some doom and gloom to tell us. Scoobie meeting at 9?"

"Yay, Scoobie meeting!" Dawn said enthusiastically. "Except, you know. For the doom and gloom part."

"Riiight," Buffy said, rolling her eyes at Willow. "So. Have we got any snack food choices for the gang?"

"I'm on it," Dawn said, hopping to her feet. "I brought supplies with me. Sugary goodness coming up."

"Great," Buffy said. "I'm going to go take a bath."

She slipped upstairs as Willow and Dawn began pottering around in the kitchen, and escaped to the sanctuary of her bubble bath.

*****

Buffy only stayed to hear the beginning of Giles' explanation to Willow, Dawn, Xander and Alison about the prophecies, and the day's trip to LA. With Spike's permission, he was going to explain everything to them, and Buffy didn't think she could handle another rendition of the news she had heard today.

Scoobie meetings now took place in Buffy's recently-refurbished basement, after Alison pointed out that holding gatherings in private locations where locals couldn't eavesdrop, and vampires couldn't enter, was probably a good idea. 

As Giles began talking, Buffy slipped upstairs to wait on the back porch for Angel and Spike to arrive as agreed.

The warmth of the spring day had disappeared as the sun went down, and the cool night air meant the stars appeared crystal clear in the black sky. Faint mist appeared with each exhalation, and Buffy was glad to wrap herself in a warm coat as she sat on a wicker chair. The familiar shadows in the yard, the gentle purr of a car making its way down the street, the faint rumble of next door's television, the soft breeze that tickled her hair against her cheek, were all soothing to her senses, and she tipped her head back and watched the branches of the trees dance with the stars as she waited for Angel and Spike.

They appeared silently, dark shadows moving noiselessly across the garden, and perched quietly on the steps before her, smoking. Occasionally the two vampires exchanged a few words, too low for Buffy to make out. 

__

So strange to see them getting on like this, she thought to herself.

Her eyes moved from one dark brown head to the other dark blonde one, currently turned towards each other in brief conversation. She strained her ears to catch a few words, but could only pick up the low chest rumble of their voices.

Her gaze settled on Angel's familiar profile. Her first love, her first lover. It seemed so long ago now, she could hardly remember what it felt like to have her world revolve around him. Sixteen years old, and unable to believe that passion this strong could ever fade. In this case, absence certainly hadn't made the heart grow fonder. She had grown up and away from him. Maybe if he had stayed in Sunnydale, her feelings would have stayed strong, but his move to LA had proved to be the death of their relationship.

The single night they had spent together was both etched in her memory, and faded like an old photograph. _I guess no-one ever forgets their first time_, she thought, but her memories of the actual event were fuzzy round the edges. It had been a sweet, gentle, loving experience, she remembered, with Angel happy to take the lead. Buffy imagined being in control came naturally to him.

Her eyes drifted over to Spike. Now he, on the other hand - every moment she had spent with him as his lover was as vivid now as the day it had happened. If loving Angel was soft velvet, silver glow, slow and dreamy, then Spike was golden sparks, silken sheen, enveloping, breathless black. Passionate, exciting, adventurous, sensual, at times dominating and at times submissive - his lovemaking had been like a drug. She hadn't been able to get enough. And she had given up, in recent years, trying to justify to herself why it was Spike's image and Spike's hands that she often brought to mind when she was alone at night in her bed. She had even given up feeling disgusted with herself in the morning.

She was roused from her thoughts by the sudden movement from the two vampires, who as one surged to their feet and turned to face the back door. A few seconds later, she heard it too - her friends were moving up the basement stairs, through the kitchen, making their way out the back door.

The door opened, and Dawn charged out first, a determined expression on her face. She made her way over to Spike and Angel, giving each a quick hug and then turning to face the others who were still standing by the back door. Dawn had made it clear that she was standing up for Spike and Angel.

Xander was through the door next, where he stopped, regarding the figures before him. Willow squeezed out behind him, her eyes enormous as they flicked between Spike and Angel.

Giles and Alison paused in the kitchen, silently watching the tableau. 

After what seemed like eons, Xander stepped forward and stood before Angel, holding out his hand. "Angel," he said briefly, and if there hadn't been so much tension in the air, Buffy would have rolled her eyes. Why couldn't people speak in full sentences around here?

"Xander," Angel returned, taking the proffered hand. Then Xander moved slightly so that he stood before Spike, and Buffy found herself holding her breath. How would Xander act now?

The two stood facing each other, faces expressionless as brown eyes and blue clashed. Spike lifted his chin slightly, that old defiant look coming onto his face. _Think you can take me? _he seemed to be saying. _Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough._

Xander smiled slightly at the unspoken challenge. "Spike," he said, holding out his hand. "Long time no see."

Buffy bit her lip to stop herself chuckling as Spike's jaw almost hit the floor. He quickly recovered, and shook Xander's hand. "Harris," he said briefly. "How's things."

Pleasantries over, Xander moved to Buffy's side, showing his own allegiances. Buffy reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Since the events of five years ago, and Willow's actions, Xander had grown so much, was now able to see grey rather than just black and white. But she hadn't been sure how he would cope with seeing Spike again, and she was proud of him.

Willow quickly moved forward, pausing a little way from the vampires. She regarded them gravely, her eyes lingering over Spike. He looked back just as solemnly, his eyes level, no smirk or defiance present as he waited for Willow's judgement. She gave a slight smile

"Hello, Spike. It's ..." she swallowed, and an expression of surprise flitted over her face. "It's good to see you again."

Spike allowed his features to relax slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a smile. "And you."

Willow ducked her head and moved back so she was standing close to Xander and Buffy. There was silence.

Giles regarded the two groups standing in front of him for a few seconds, then stepped forward.

"Alison, I'd like you to meet Angel and Spike," he said, ushering Alison forward. She shook hands with each of the vampires, warm smile in place.

"Now that everybody's up to date, we need to come up with some suggestions," Giles continued. "Based on the evidence, we can safely assume that something is happening very shortly. But we need to find out exactly what."

"I thought you said this prophecy was very specific," Buffy said. "Doesn't it give more details?"

"Well, it _is_ very specific - for a prophecy," Giles answered. "And particularly for this cult. Most of their prophecies have only been deciphered after they have already been fulfilled.

"This one is specific in that the portents are very accurate; and I can narrow down to within a week when it will be fulfilled. It also explains exactly what will happen. But it isn't very clear on _how _it will happen."

"Why don't you tell us exactly what the prophecy says, see if anyone else has any ideas?" Alison suggested.

"Good suggestion," Giles said. "I've got the book here ..."

He moved back to the basement entrance, and everyone turned to follow him. 

As Buffy walked through the kitchen, she heard her name called in a quiet tone. Turning back, she saw Spike waiting by the door. He looked at her quickly, then glanced away.

"I can't ..." He gestured at the doorway. Buffy felt a flush of shame at her thoughtlessness. How could she have forgotten?

"Come in, Spike," she said softly.

His eyes locked with hers, and slowly he stepped through the open doorway.

****

As he entered the basement, Spike looked around curiously. Someone had spent a lot of time and effort turning it into an area that would perfectly meet Buffy's needs. Several stuffed dummies and punchbags stood around, looking somewhat worse for wear. Slayer fists and feet must be as fast and lethal as ever. A large target was fastened to the far wall, with a cluster of holes near the bull's eye. Various well-tended weapons, obviously favourites, were displayed in cases. One, a large axe, caught his attention, and he moved over for a closer look.

"Isn't that ...?" He turned to find Buffy standing behind him, a defiant look on her face.

"Are you admiring _my _favourite axe?" she asked, daring him. He gave a low chuckle.

"It's very nice," he told her, giving up any claim he might have had to the weapon that he had last seen in his crypt. He continued looking around the room.

At the other end of the room, a round table took up most of the space, surrounded by several mismatched chairs. A low ceiling light hung over the centre of the table, creating a warm pool of light Against the nearest wall, a desk with a sleek computer held pride of place, and a small bookshelf held a number of ancient looking tomes. Willow settled into the chair by the computer as if by right, running her fingers over the keys as though stroking a pet. The others all moved into the other chairs, each obviously having a customary place. Angel and Spike remained standing.

"Pull up a chair, guys," Dawn invited. They both shifted uncomfortably, and looked around the room. Spike perched on the basement steps, just outside of the light cast by the ceiling lamp, and Angel leaned against the wall nearby.

Everyone looked at them questioningly.

"Is this a vampire allergy we didn't know about?" Xander asked. "Stakes, garlic, holy water - chairs?"

Spike and Angel both glared daggers.

"Let's just ... hear the prophecy," Angel growled.

"Yes. Well, roughly translated, here it is." Giles repeated the words just as he had told them to Buffy earlier that day.

__

"On the night of the full moon the earth shall shake with fear.

The old ones shall return to the earth

Back to the beginning

Back where they belong.

Brought back by the leader of Aurelius

To claim what was theirs.

And the earth shall no longer be home to mankind.

Only if the Empress of Night-time leads the way

Only if the three of sadness come together

Only if the two hands guide the shade 

Will the doorway remain closed."

He looked up at the others. "The first part is fairly clear, I think. One night next week, when there is a full moon, there will be an earthquake. Immediately ollowing that, something will happen that will bring back the old ones. The demons that inhabited the earth before mankind, I believe.

"The second part is more difficult. "Empress" could also be translated as "Queen", or simply some kind of female leader. "Night-time" could also be "darkness". I just can't make head nor tail of any of it."

"Is "the doorway" the Hellmouth?" Willow queried.

"Most likely," Giles said. "But we don't know for sure."

There was silence as everyone thought over the words. Then they all looked at each other, waiting for someone to make a suggestion.

Giles closed the book with a sigh. "Any ideas? Anyone?"

"We need more that this," Buffy said. "We can't just guess what these Helley-oens mean. Maybe it will all be clear after the event, but that's not really much help. Not if "earth will no longer be home to mankind." And womenkind, I expect."

"Ok, I expect this is a really stupid idea," said Xander, and paused. No-one corrected him. "But I'll say it anyway. Can we find a way of looking into the future? Then we'll understand what this prophecy means, and we can stop it." He looked around expectantly. "You know, with some kind of spell or something..." His voice trailed away.

Dawn reached over and patted his hand comfortingly.

"Um, I don't think there are any spells that can do that kind of thing," Willow volunteered from her corner. "I've never come across any that can do time-loopy stuff."

"Oh well," Xander sighed. "Another stupid idea for the Xand-man."

"It's not that stupid," Alison said soothingly. "Some people can see the future, you know. We just don't know any of them."

"There's Dru," Angel said suddenly, then subsided when everyone turned to look at him. "Ok, that was an even stupider idea than Xander's."

"Hey!" protested Xander. "Only I'm allowed to have the stupid ideas. It's what I do."

"Sorry," mumbled Angel. 

Alison was looking at him with interest. "Drusilla? The vampire? She has psychic abilities?"

"Sure," Angel replied. "She had - visions - of things that happened in the future. She was also pretty handy with tarot cards, hypnosis, things like that."

There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone in the room remembered a few past events. Only Alison was unaffected.

"How lucid were her visions?" she asked.

Angel looked confused, but answered obligingly. "Before she - became a vampire - pretty lucid. Afterwards ... well, she found it hard to distinguish between reality and visions. She didn't really try. Just let it all happen."

"Why does it matter?" Xander asked. "One crazy vampire isn't going to help us."

Angel and Spike turned to stare at him forbiddingly.

"Alison has a number of skills and abilities," Giles explained, leaning forward. "She can act as a - channel - for those who receive visions. A translator, if you like."

"I don't have visions myself," Alison said. "My grandmother did, however, and I learnt to help her interpret them." She turned back to Angel. "Did Drusilla ever have someone help her?"

Angel shook his head. "Not that I know of."

Spike, who had sat silently through the discussion, now spoke up. "Dru never had any help from anyone. She just muddled through it as best she could. Most of the time she was dead accurate. But Harris is right. It doesn't matter that she has the abilities. There's no way she would help."

Giles and Alison exchanged looks.

"What is it?" Buffy said softly.

Giles gave a quick nod, and Alison turned to her. "We received a new shipment of goods in the Magic Box last week. One of them was an Orb of Thessulah."

A silence fell around the room as all absorbed the impact of her words.

"You mean ..." Angel breathed.

"No!"

Everyone jumped as the word exploded from Spike. He launched to his feet, his eyes ice blue.

"There is no way you are pulling that hocus-pocus on Dru. Christ, Angel. We've found it almost impossible to cope. And you were a drunken layabout and I was a pathetic loser without a spine before we were turned. You've told me often enough how pure and chaste and honest Dru was before you turned her. How do you think that soul would handle all the things Dru has done in the past century? If she's not completely insane now, she certainly would be after that!"

"Spike, let's at least talk about it ..." Angel began, laying a hand on Spike's arm to calm him down. But Spike shook him off.

"There. Is. Nothing. To. Talk. About. There is no way I'm letting you do this. No way in hell."

He cast a final scathing look around the room, then ran up the stairs and disappeared.

TBC


	5. Here's The Plan

****

CHAPTER FIVE - HERE'S THE PLAN

Those left in the room let out their breath in one big sigh as the sound of the back door slamming died away.

"I'm sorry." Alison broke the silence. "I'm stealing your thunder, Xander. That was a really stupid idea."

"Don't worry about it," Xander told her magnanimously.

"It wasn't a stupid idea," Angel said firmly. "It's the only idea we've got. Drusilla _is_ able to predict the future sometimes. Spike's got a point, but he'll come round to seeing what's got to be done."

"It's the ultimate paradox," Giles mused. "In theory, Drusilla is an evil demon, therefore she doesn't deserve our consideration, therefore giving her back her soul isn't a problem. But once she has her soul, then she becomes something worthy of our help and sympathy. And we shouldn't inflict that pain on her." 

"Riiiight." Such philosophical dilemmas didn't really interest Buffy. She turned to Angel. "Do you really think she's stable enough to handle this?" she asked doubtfully. _As far as I'm concerned, Drusilla is not the sharpest tool in the shed_, she thought.

Angel shrugged, looking broody. "I can't really say, Buffy. She can be very fragile. But at the same time, she is very strong. I don't know which would win out."

"And would you be able to - interpret - for her?" Buffy asked Alison.

"I think so," she replied. "I'd need help from Willow to establish the bond. But after that ..."

"Well," Buffy announced, "it's the only plan we've got at the moment. So I say we go with it. Angel, why don't you go after Spike. Talk to him about this, see if there's any way of convincing him that this is the only thing to do. Everyone else, let's all keep thinking about the prophecy, see if we can come up with any other ideas. I don't want to try messing around with Drusilla unless there's nothing else to be done. Just in case, though, Willow had better start digging out her resouling spell. Alison, you and Willow work together to sort out what would need to be done to create the bond with Drusilla if we get that far. Giles, I know you've been researching this prophecy for weeks now, but see if you can get anything else out of it. Dawn can help you, she'll be a fresh pair of eyes. Xander, we're going to hit Willy's And Willy. See if there's anything on the grapevine that can help us."

Buffy watched in satisfaction as everyone scurried to their assigned chores. She hated to admit it, but sometimes she really enjoyed parts of being the Slayer.

*****

__

It's strange being back in Sunnydale.

How long had it been? Angel counted back. Years. It never seemed to change, though. Same quiet town, studiously ignoring the monsters in the midst, refusing to explain the need to get home before dark. It had always amazed Angel how the townsfolk of Sunnydale were determined to pretend that everything was just fine and dandy, thank you very much.

__

Over there is where I killed the telepathy demon to get its heart for Buffy. And down that street is the cemetery where we used to meet before patrol. And over that way ... he flinched but forced himself to continue _... is the place I lured Buffy to while Drusilla killed that Slayer in the library and captured Giles_ ....

He hunched his shoulders and tucked his head down, retreating from his little trip down memory lane. _Why the hell did I come back?_

And now he had to face Spike.

A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth at the thought of Spike. He may have changed a great deal in the past five years, but some things about Spike remained the same, and that quick-flaring temper was one of them.

When Spike had first turned up at the hotel, just over three years ago, stinking worse than a city dumpster, looking more like a skeleton than a man, dressed in filthy rags with long greasy hair, Angel had been too shocked to stake him on sight. After he had got over his shock, he had sensed that there was something wrong - no, different - about Spike. He hadn't been able to put his finger on it, though, until Spike's half-delirious ramblings had managed to bring out the tale of his quest for a soul, and Buffy's love.

Angel remembered the overpowering, shaking rage that had surged through him at the start of Spike's story, and then the overwhelming pity he had felt at the end. And respect, he admitted to himself, although it had taken a long time to admit. It seemed that Spike - Spike, for God's sake - had proved himself a better person that Angel. Instead of staking the other vampire, Angel had devoted himself to helping Spike cope with the horrors of the past century. A friendship that the two had never known before had sprung up, tentatively at first, until now it was unshakeable. Angel knew exactly how Spike was feeling at the thought of 'cursing' Drusilla with her soul. But he also knew that Spike could be brought round to the idea. And he knew how to go about it.

*****

Angel found Spike stretched out on the sofa, staring into the flames of a recently lit fire that was the only illumination in the room.

Spike didn't stir as Angel sprawled onto the other chair. Silence reigned for long minutes, broken only by the crackle and hiss of the flames. Finally, Angel began.

"The others are trying to come up with a way of making sense of the prophecy," Angel said softly.

Spike grunted.

"No one wants to attempt ensouling Drusilla, Spike."

A raised eyebrow, but no comment.

"After all, it's pretty unlikely she would be able to help anyway."

Spike stiffened slightly, then deliberately relaxed.

"Her visions were always, well, let's face it, pretty wacky. Not much use to us until after the event."

Was that a growl?

"And all that rubbish about stars, do you remember? God, how did you put up with her?"

"This isn't going to work, Angel," Spike snarled. "You know as well as I do that Drusilla was bloody accurate. Saved our arses more than once."

Angel raised his eyebrows. Spike had called him by his name, not some godawful nickname. He'd better tread carefully.

"You're right." A pause. Angel picked his next words carefully. "You agree, then, that she could help us?"

A stretched silence. The light from the fire flicked over Spike's face, casting slashing shadows beneath his cheekbones, hiding his eyes in shadow, preventing Angel from reading anything from their expression. He couldn't miss the muscle flexing in Spike's jaw, however, and prudently he kept quiet, waiting for Spike to react.

"Yes, of course she could bloody well help us." The words seemed to explode from Spike, and he swung his legs off the sofa to sit up straight. "That's not the bloody point. The point is whether getting her soul back would finally and completely finish the job you started on her a hundred and forty years ago."

Angel winced. Point for Spike. He waited a moment before replying.

"I don't want to harm Drusilla, Spike. You know that. God, it's the last thing that I want to do. But you're wrong. The point isn't 'how will this affect Dru?' The point is 'how do we stop hell being unleashed on earth?'"

Spike buried his face in his hands, and Angel knew that Spike had accepted what had to be done. "Fine. We'll do it." His voice was muffled.

Angel moved to sit next to him. "We'll be there for her, Spike. We'll help her. We'll do everything we can to protect her."

Spike let his hands drop away and met Angel's eyes levelly. "Yes we bloody well will."

******

"So we're going to do it?" Buffy asked.

"Well, no one's come up with any other suggestions in the past 24 hours," Giles said dryly. "Willy was no help. Willow and Alison have everything ready to go. We really have no other options. And -" he hesitated "And Dawn may have worked something out in the prophecy."

All eyes turned to Dawn, sitting quietly behind a pile of books. She flushed slightly under their scrutiny, then turned her gaze to Spike and began to talk.

"It just came to me when I was reading the prophecy, and it may be complete rubbish, but Giles thinks it makes as much sense as anything ..." She drew a breath. "It's the bit that says '_Only if the Empress of Night-time leads the way, only if the three of sadness come together'. _ The 'Empress of Night-time' bit rang a bell, but I couldn't think why. So I started playing around with it, trying different translation. 'Queen of Night'. 'Queen of Darkness'. Then I realised what it reminded me of." Her gaze held Spike's. "What did you used to call Drusilla? Your pet name for her ..."

His eyes widened in understanding. "Princess." His voice was choked. "My dark princess."

"'_Only if the dark princess leads the way'," _Dawn quoted. "And then '_the three of sadness'_. Angel. Spike. And ... Drusilla. Three souled vampires. It - it makes a kind of sense."

There was silence.

Giles glanced around the room. Dawn's theory seemed to ring true with everyone, and dispel any doubts about whether they should ensoul Drusilla. These prophecies were tricky things, but this certainly seemed to hang together. _Beggars can't be choosers_. It was the best, and only, theory they had.

  
"If everyone is agreed?" There were nods around the table. "Then the next thing we need to do is find Drusilla. I think it would be best if we had her close by while Willow performs the spell."

*****

Some phone calls made by Spike to 'contacts' in LA elicited the information that Drusilla had been seen in a few bars in the area, escorted by her latest paramour. Buffy was both amused and impressed by Spike's ability to turn his Big Bad persona on and off as he dealt with the people (_demons?) _on the other end of the phone. It took him half an hour to narrow the possibilities down to one of three nightspots where Drusilla was likely to be that evening. Then he and Angel headed off to LA to 'collect' her.

Buffy had wanted to go to, but they had convinced her to stay in Sunnydale. It went against the grain, not being part of the action, but they had insisted that it would be better for them to act alone. Having the Slayer along might mess things up.

Instead, she had thrown herself into a training session. Not her own; they were hardly required anymore. But training for Xander, Willow and Dawn had become a regular event, and each of the three had shown strong skills. Willow was the weakest, physically, but her eye was good and her aim true, and armed with crossbow she was lethal. Dawn had proved to be a slippery little customer in hand-to-hand combat, using speed and flexibility to make up for the lack of supernatural strength. Both she and Xander were extra-handy with swords as well, and Xander's new favourite weapon was a trusty battle axe that he could swing better than any Viking. They made a formidable team. With an apocalypse on the way, Buffy decided that some extra training could come in handy, and she even roped in Alison for the session.

Afterwards, they all sat around in the living room, Xander, Giles and Alison reluctant to return to their respective homes until they had heard something from LA. The hours dragged past, until at close to midnight the phone call came.   


"We've got her," Angel reported. "We're heading back to Sunnydale now. She's tranquillised, and we'll keep her under until we get back to the mansion. When does Willow want to do the spell?"

Buffy relayed the news to the others.

"I think we should do the spell as soon as possible," Willow suggested. "As soon as they're back at the mansion. Don't you think, Giles?"

"It makes sense," he agreed. "Tell Angel that we'll meet them there when they return."

*****

Two hours later, Buffy's vigil by the window of Angel's mansion was rewarded by the sight of the car pulling up outside. Two figures emerged, indistinguishable in the darkness except for the glint of moonlight that turned Spike's hair white. He was carrying Drusilla cradled carefully in his arms.

Buffy dropped the curtain and turned round. "They're back," she announced to the room at large.

Xander woke with a jerk from where he had been nodding off on the sofa, Willow curled up against him fast asleep. Dawn was asleep on the other sofa, and Giles and Alison were ensconced at the table nearby, still studying as many books as they could lay their hands on. At her words, Giles rose stiffly and stretched, and Alison closed her book softly and moved to shake Willow awake.

By the time Angel and Spike entered the room, all six were waiting, standing silently in the shadows, watching as Spike carried Drusilla upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

"Did everything go smoothly?" Giles asked Angel quietly.

"Fine. She's still out of it." Angel turned to where Spike had disappeared in the bend of the stairway. "He's worried."

"We've found a spell that may help," Willow told him. "It acts like a kind of sedative. Drusilla will be conscious and everything, but kind of - numbed. It may help her deal with, well, everything, to start off with."

"Good." Angel gave a forced, unnatural smile. "Are you ready to do this?"

Willow nodded. "I'll do the curse - spell - now, with Alison's assistance. And the sedative one. Then, when Drusilla starts to come round, we'll do the bonding one. The bond will Alison should also help her, you know, cope. So we should do it as soon as possible."

"Do it, then."

Everyone jumped. Spike had returned downstairs without them noticing, and stood now at the foot of the stairway. In a slight gentler tone, he repeated. "Do it. I'm going to sit with her. I want to be there - in case she wakes."

"I'll sit with you," Angel said. He turned to Willow. "We'll let you know when she starts to stir."

Willow nodded, and they watched Angel and Spike move swiftly up the stairs and disappear. Then, Willow turned to the table and began to prepare the curse.

****

TBC


	6. Splintered

****

CHAPTER SIX - SPLINTERED

Fire and candlelight lent the room a warm golden glow, flickering against the profile of Giles seated on the floor by the coffee table, still going through massive volumes; highlighting red gleams like licks of fire in Willow's hair as she moved around making her preparations; giving Alison, with her dark eyes and pale skin, a mysterious, ethereal air. The shadows hiding in the corners suddenly reared up against the floor and ceiling as the front door opened and the night breeze flooded in; Xander entered, arms laden, and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Coffee and donuts, troops," he announced, laying supplies out on a handy sideboard. "And extra candles. Although why Angel couldn't just hook this place up to electricity …"

Willow looked up from her arrangements and smiled distractedly.

"It's atmospheric, Xander," she said. Refusing a donut, she returned her attention to the objects spread before her. In the past, the preparations required prior to performing a spell had seemed a chore, like going supermarket shopping. _Follow the steps, then you can do the fun part - the magic_. Now, though, she found pleasure, a deep satisfaction, in the steps that slowly led her to the performance. _Selecting the precise amount of herb; deliberating over the most desirable specimen; running over the words and the incantations in her mind_ - each stage took her along the path to that moment when she would open herself up to the magic that both surrounded her and belonged inside her; when she would be at her most vulnerable - _not her most powerful, as she had once believed_ - until that exquisite, terrifying moment when she could feel her spell working and taking hold …

Her preparations were almost complete. Willow closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself mentally for the next stage. She sensed someone standing beside, and turned her head to see Buffy there. Her friend was studying the items laid out on the table with curiosity. 

"So how are you feeling about doing this, Will?" Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. "Ok, I guess. It's not really a very complicated spell, and Alison and Dawn will be helping me. It'll go fine, I promise."

Buffy smiled at her warmly. "I don't doubt you, Will. You've really got the magic thing down pat, now."

It was true, Willow reflected. Now that she controlled her magic, and limited the number of spells she cast, it was rare that anything ever went wrong with them. Unheard of, even. But then, she guessed that she had made her fair share of mistakes during her teenage years, thanks to her bull-in-a-china-shop approach to magic.

"The spell not working isn't what worries me," Buffy continued. "It's Drusilla. We just have no idea how she will react with a soul. She may turn into even more a fruit loop than she is now. And not even help us."

Willow frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know. I think Dawn is right. About that prophecy. I think Drusilla will help us." She smiled brightly. "Anyway, we may as well give it a go. We haven't had any other bright ideas so far."

Buffy sighed. "No. Definitely down on the bright ideas barometer." She took Willow's hand and gave it a squeeze. "You do your funky thing, then."

Willow nodded and caught Dawn's and Alison's eyes. They were ready.

*************************************

After selecting a coffee and a jelly donut, Buffy curled up on the sofa, watching curiously as Willow began the ritual_. So this is how it happened ten years ago,_ she thought_. While I was fighting Angel - Angelus - this is what Willow was doing._

A shadow of the pain from that day clenched at her heart, but then dissipated almost immediately.

__

It's too long ago. Buffy could barely remember even being that girl any more. The girl who looked in the eyes of the man that she loved with everything she was, and then drove a sword into his heart. She remembered feeling the agony in her own chest, as though the blade was slicing into her own flesh. But now, it was a memory of pain. No more. No less.

The scent of incense wafted past, and she focussed again on Willow, Alison and Dawn. Dawn was holding the incense while Alison murmured Latin from a book, and Willow repeated the words of the spell with confidence in her voice that rarely appeared in her everyday life.

Te implor, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte. 

(I implore you, Lord, do not ignore this request.)

Nici mort, nici al fiintei... 

(Neither dead, nor of the living...)

The orb of Thessulah began to glow with a faint golden light as Willow spoke, and Buffy could sense the power that her friend was gathering around her as she continued the spell.

__

Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta, sufletul la el. 

(Let this Orb be the vessel that will carry her soul to her.)

Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum! 

(So it shall be! So it shall be! Now!)

There was a crackle in the air like electricity, and a flash of light from the Orb on the table before them, then Buffy watched as Willow relaxed and took a deep breath, and Alison closed the book. 

Willow caught Buffy's eye and nodded. "It's done." 

*************************************

Buffy made her way slowly upstairs. She found the three vampires in the far bedroom. It was lit only by a couple of candles that flickered and jumped in an unseen draught, casting dark shadows against the walls. Drusilla was lying on top of the enormous four-poster bed, moving restlessly in her unnatural sleep. Angel sat silently, hidden, in a dark corner, but Spike was also on the bed, leaning against the headboard next to Drusilla, holding her hand and rubbing his thumb against her palm. He bent protectively towards Dru, barely looking up as Buffy entered.

"It's done," she said in a whisper, unable to fully break the silence that held the room.

"We know," Angel replied just as softly. "We could tell."

"I think she's beginning to wake," Spike said, still looking down at Drusilla. 

"Oh." Buffy hovered in the doorway, watching as Spike brushed his free hand against Dru's cheek in an attempt to soothe her. Unexpectedly, emotion flared up inside Buffy. She remembered when Spike had looked at her like that, as though he would do anything to protect and help her, as though she was the only thing of any importance in the world ... when the touch of his hand against her skin could either lull her to sleep, or send her rocketing to the stars in ecstasy .... when she had known, without even caring, that she was so unspeakably precious to him that he could go against his very nature in an attempt to make her happy ...

Drusilla murmured something, frowning, and twisted on the bed. Her eyelids flickered and then raised. Angel jerked to his feet and, almost against his will, moved to the other side of the bed, his eyes also riveted to Dru's face. Buffy withdrew noiselessly into the shadows, knowing she should leave but unable to tear herself away from the tableau.

"Spike? ...." Drusilla was focussing on Spike, still half-asleep. There was a clarity in her eyes that Buffy had never seen before, an innocence. Drusilla's gaze moved to Angel, who sat down tentatively on the bed. She still seemed to be under the influence of the drug, conscious but only barely, still not aware of what was going on around her. Buffy waited, hardly able to breath, for the moment when everything would change.

Dru smiled softly and began to raise a thin white hand to Angel's face, but then dropped it suddenly. From where she stood, Buffy could see the exact moment that the memories, the horror, hit Dru. 

Even with the sedation spell that Willow had performed earlier to protect Drusilla, the emotions and the images were overpowering. A shadow came over Dru's eyes and her face crumpled. "Oh God ... no...no …" The tears began to flow, and Buffy felt the prickle of moisture in her own eyes.

"Dru, my pet, it's okay, I'm here ..." Spike crooned to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his body. She clung to him for a moment, then raised her head and looked at Angel, her expression one of complete revulsion.

Angel bowed his head, guilt and sorrow radiating from him.

"I'm so sorry, Dru. I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly.

She stared at him for a long minute, then slowly raised her hand again and cupped Angel's cheek in benediction. Buffy watched as Angel also folded his arms around Drusilla and the three clung together, tears streaming down their cheeks. Only then did Buffy, her own cheeks wet, turn and head downstairs.

*****

After a while, Angel joined them in the lounge area.

"How is she?" Alison asked softly.

Angel shrugged. "I don't know. Better than I expected, I guess. I did wonder if Spike was right, if this would actually make Dru fall apart." He paused and considered. "I think, it seems as though it's actually helping her."

Giles raised his head and met Angel's eyes. An unspoken communication passed between them. Giles had wondered what effect the spell would have on Dru; he hadn't been sure that having a soul would make her help them. Now, Giles relaxed slightly. Angel seemed to think that all had gone well, and he trusted his judgement.

"Is Spike still with her?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah. She's rambling a bit. Talking about her family." Angel looked at Alison. "It might be a good idea to do this bonding thing as soon as possible."

"Absolutely." Alison looked over at Willow, who nodded. Collecting a vial of ointment and an ancient tome, Willow gestured for Alison, Angel, Dawn and Buffy to follow her. Xander and Giles trailed after them.

*****

"Okay. So what we need to do is this." Willow looked around the room a little nervously. Drusilla was propped up on the headboard of the bed, with Spike still seated by her like a guard-dog about to attack, and Angel in position on her other side. "Alison needs to be physically linked to Drusilla while I do the spell, but we decided it might be too - intense - for her to be touching Drusilla directly. So Dawn and Buffy will act as go-betweens. Linking them. They won't be affected by the spell, they'll just filter the flow of information between Alison and Drusilla. Um, okay?"

Everyone nodded obediently and moved into position. Drusilla, deathly calm, watched without interest as Buffy and Dawn sat cross-legged on the bed and each took one of her limp white hands. Alison also sat on the bed and took hold of the free hands of Buffy and Dawn, forming a circle. 

Willow dipped her finger in the ointment, then rubbed it into the temples of both Drusilla and Alison, and onto her own forehead and palms. Then she stood at the foot of the bed, behind Alison, and rested her hands on Alison's shoulders. She closed her eyes and began to chant.

Willow had warned Buffy and Dawn that, while they wouldn't share Drusilla's thoughts and feelings in the same way the Alison would, they may pick up some residual emotion. Sure enough, Buffy could sense a wave of sorrow flowing through her and, meeting Dawn's eyes, she knew that her sister felt the same. Buffy risked at glance at Alison, wondering how the older woman could handle the unedited version of Drusilla's mind. Alison looked pale, and her eyes shone with unshed tears, but her gaze was steady, locked on Drusilla's. And then Buffy began to sense emotions coming from Alison - sympathy, compassion, love. Drusilla's fingers began to return the pressure on her own, gripping firmly, and Buffy felt the vampire sit up straighter, leaning slightly towards Alison.

At last, Willow stopped chanting and moved back, signalling that they could break the contact. As Buffy and Dawn released their grip, Alison spoke.

"Would you mind giving us some time alone?" He eyes didn't move from Dru.

"Of course." Quietly, they all began to leave the room except for Spike.

"Are you all right, love?" he asked attentively.

She nodded, a faint, mona lisa smile on her lips. "I'm fine Spike. Go now. We need to talk."

His hand grasped Drusilla's, and again Buffy felt the flare of emotion. "I'll be downstairs."

In the hallway, Giles paused. "They will probably be a while. Alison will want to strengthen the bond, learn some more about Drusilla and how her visions work. It might be a good idea for us all to get some rest." He looked at Angel. "Are there some more bedrooms we can use?"

"Yeah …" Angel wandered down the hallway, opening a few doors. "There's one here … and another here …"

One by one, the Scoobies filed into different rooms, until just Buffy, Spike and Angel remained. Dawn paused in a doorway. "Buff? Do you want to crash in with me? I'm used to your snoring …"

Buffy gave her a mock-scowl. "I don't snore, that would be you." Her face relaxed into a smile and she gave Dawn a brief hug. "I'm not really tired. I'm going to sit up for a bit, maybe have a nap later."

Dawn's nod was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. "'Kay then. G'night."

Buffy followed the two vampires downstairs, taking up her former position curled into a corner of the couch. She felt wide awake as she watched Spike throw himself down onto the other couch, and Angel walk over to the french windows that led into the courtyard. He pulled open the doors, letting fresh cool air waft into the room.

"Sunrise soon," he said quietly, almost to himself, then stepped outside and disappeared into the garden.

Silence filled the room, growing more oppressive as the seconds ticked by. Buffy looked over to Spike, barely visible in the dim light.

Desperate to break the silence, she cast around for something to say.

"I'm - I'm sure Dru is going to fine," she said finally, then winced. _Stupid thing to say, Buffy. You have no idea if Dru will be fine_.

"Yeah," Spike mumbled. "I hope so." He stirred restlessly. "I think this bonding thing will be good for her. Give her the help she needs. She was always so alone before."

"Alison will be able to help her," Buffy told him, remembering the comforting emotions she had experienced while Willow was performing the bonding spell.

He looked at her, finally, and gave a little half-smile that sent a pang to her heart. _There he is! There's the old Spike that I remember._

Encouraged, she began to speak. "Spike, I've been thinking - a lot - about what you told me the other day. About - getting your soul. What you did, and why you did it.

"There hasn't been an opportunity for me to tell you. That I really admire what you've done and what you've become. Choosing to win your soul is … incredible. I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but …I have so much respect for you."

Spike looked back at her, his expression serious, his blue eyes gentle. "Thanks. That means a lot."

"You're welcome." She gave a little smile, and his lips curved up in response. 

She took another breath. "There are three vampires in this house that have souls. But you're the only one who wanted one. And you're the only one that ever helped us, without a soul. I didn't realise it at the time, but I do now. I do recognise, how unique you are, what you sacrificed, and what you've achieved."

Spike looked at her, speechless. He had never expected to hear such words from Buffy, and he had no idea how to respond. Unable to come up with the words, he instead reached across, took her hand, and raised it to his lips. Then, embarrassed, he favoured her with a smirk, and said again; "Thank you."

Silence fell again, but this time it was a comfortable one. By the time Angel returned inside and drew the curtains against the first rays of the sun, they were both fast asleep.


	7. Dreams and Nightmares

****

CHAPTER SEVEN - DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES

Buffy was dreaming.

__

She was standing in a large underground cavern, filled with the sound of running water. An unearthly, cold white light flooded the centre of the cavern, where a man dressed in black was standing with his back to her. Standing around him in a circle, hidden in the shadows, she could sense a crowd of people, completely still and silent. Suddenly Drusilla appeared at her side.  


"You can't kill him, you know," she said conversationally.

"Why not?" Buffy asked.

Drusilla looked into her eyes. "Because you don't have the courage." With a malicious smile, she walked away, moving among the crowd that Buffy could sense but not see.

"She's right, you know." Buffy turned. Willow was standing just behind her. "You don't have the spirit." Willow reached out and took Buffy's hands in her own. "It takes two, you see." She pulled Buffy round so they were both looking at the man bathed in the harsh light. As Buffy watched, he began to turn round, until she could see his face. She had never seen him before, but there was something familiar about him. As she watched, his face began to change, sinking in on itself, grotesque and misshapen, and with a shock of recognition she realised that she was looking at the Master.

He began to walk towards her, and she pushed Willow behind her, taking up a fighting stance.

"Buffy, you can't …" she heard Willow say behind her, but she ignored her, tuning out her voice and focussing on the figure approaching her.

He was close enough now, and she lashed out with a punch that would disable him. But, to her horror, her arms wouldn't move … she was helpless as he took hold of her head between his two hands and twisted …

She woke with a gasp of air, shuddering.

"You're ok, you're ok." Spike was crouched by the sofa, pushing a sweat-dampened strand of hair off her forehead. She noticed that someone had draped a blanket over her at some point while she slept, and she pulled it up to her chin, still shivering from the after-effects of her nightmare. _Was it a nightmare? Or one of those prophetic dreams?_ She couldn't think about it just yet. She shoved the memory to the back of her mind, and allowed herself to be calmed by Spike's gentle stroking of her hair.

"Thanks," she murmured, looking into the eyes so close to her own. Their gazes held and tangled for a long minute, and the wild thought rushed into Buffy's mind - _what would he do if I kissed him?_ She wrenched her eyes away, and Spike moved away, standing and stretching.

Buffy sat up, also working the kinks out of her back. "What time is it?"

"Eleven," Giles replied from behind her. She twisted to face him. One by one, the Scoobies were filing down from up stairs, yawning and stretching. Alison came last, looking exhausted but calm. "Were you having a dream, Buffy?"

She nodded hesitantly. "I think so. I'm not sure. Let it simmer for a while, 'kay?"

Her Watcher nodded. She often found her Slayer dreams too intense to deal with straight away. Giving her an hour or so to recover usually did the trick.

He turned his attention to Alison instead. She had roused them all a few minutes ago, telling them that she had received some useful information from Drusilla and they needed to talk.

Soon, everyone was gathered in the lounge area. Only Dru was absent, resting at Alison's insistence.

"Right." Giles kicked the meeting off. "Alison, what have you been able to find out from Drusilla?"

"Quite a bit. She told me about what is planned by the Order of Aurelius and how they will open the Hellmouth. She has also given me an idea of how it can be stopped." She paused. "How much do you know about the Order of Aurelius?"

Everyone round the table looked at each other. No one volunteered anything. Finally, Angel spoke up.

"Not very much. Darla was into all that, but it wasn't my thing."

"Well, Drusilla explained a bit more about it," Alison said. "The Order of Aurelius is the group of vampires that were sired by the Master. The two of you and Drusilla are also part of the Order due to Darla, but it's those that are directly created by him that are the major players. They tend to be particularly strong, clever and, well, vicious."

She paused, took a deep breath. "The head of the Order itself - the Master - is also a particularly strong vampire. With special skills and abilities. I'm not sure I understood this part fully, but this is the best I can do. 

"We all know that a vampire is created when a demon inhabits and animates a human body. The vampire can live pretty much forever like that, except for the few threats we know about - sunlight and beheading and stakes through the heart and so on. These things destroy the human body, returning it to the dust that it should be, and therefore kill the demon that was animating it, and cannot survive without it.

"Except for a Master vampire. The human body that the Master inhabits can be destroyed in the same way as the usual vampire, but the demon isn't. That's why it would have been possible for those vampires to bring back the Master after you killed him, Buffy. They could revivify the body, and the vampire demon could inhabit it again."

"Um." Xander put up his hand. "I have a question. What?"

"I think that what Alison is saying is that the Master can be resurrected, Xander," Giles explained. "It's not something that could be done with many other vampires, but the Master is different." 

Angel spoke up. "Wolfram and Hart did something similar with Darla, a few years ago. But she was brought back as a human, not a vampire."

Alison nodded. "That's different. In this case, the Master would be brought back exactly as he was when he was destroyed. The same strength, the same abilities ... everything."

Xander nodded, still looking a bit confused. Buffy sympathised. She decided to ask her own question.

"When I dusted the Master, his bones remained - which was pretty unusual. With those bones, the rest of the Order could, umm, revivify the body and the Master would "live" again. Is that right?" Alison nodded. "But I crushed the bones. So they can't do it now, can they? Not without the bones?"

"Not as easily. But, if the time is right, then it can be done another way, or so Drusilla says," Alison said. "There are a number of different factors involved, but it seems that all those things are coming together shortly. And so the Order will try again to bring back the Master. And the first thing that the Master will want to do, apparently, is open the Hellmouth."

Buffy nodded slowly. "I think that that's what my dream was saying, then. That the Master was coming back." She explained her dream briefly.

"That makes sense," Alison mused. She looked at Giles. "Drusilla also gave me a hint about the meaning of the prophecy, and how we can stop it. Buffy's dream ties in as well."

Everyone looked at her expectantly. "Well?" Giles prompted.

"Well. I think the translation of the prophecy is actually closer to this:

'Only if the Dark Princess leads the way; Only if the three souled vampires come together; Only if the two hands guide the spirit; Will the Hellmouth remain closed'," Alison quoted. 

"But what does the hands and the spirit bit mean?" Buffy asked in exasperation.

"It's that spell," Willow said suddenly. "Do you remember? When we fought Adam. Buffy, you were the hand. And I was the spirit."

Alison nodded. "That's what I thought as well."

"However, the prophecy talks of two hands," Giles pointed out. "The spell we did to destroy Adam only referred to one hand."

Buffy held up both her hands. "I've got two of them," she said helpfully, but Alison was shaking her head. She let them drop back into her lap.

"It's not that," Angel said slowly. "Not two of your hands. Two of you."

"Two slayers," breathed Giles, enlightened.

Buffy stared at him in dismay, realisation dawning on her. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Wait." Xander pointed at Angel, then at Alison, then at Buffy. "Are you saying ... we've gotta have Faith?"

****

TBC


	8. Nothing But Fear Itself

****

CHAPTER EIGHT - NOTHING BUT FEAR ITSELF

Angel hammered on the door for a second time. He was beginning to get frustrated. Turning to peer through the dark at Giles waiting in the car, he gave an exaggerated shrug. He could tell that Faith was home, but he was starting to think that those much-vaunted Slayer powers, such as enhanced hearing and the ability to sense vampires, were somewhat over-rated.

He turned back to the door, raised his fist for one final knock, then froze in place as the door slammed open and a stake honed in on his heart. For a split second, everything around him seemed to slow, and he watched, frozen, as the sharpened piece of wood came closer and closer to his chest. Then the stake stopped in its tracks, and time returned to normal.

"Angel." Faith lowered her weapon with a reluctance that he found somewhat worrying. "What are you doing? Got a death wish?"

"Good to see you too, Faith," Angel replied, testing out his little-boy grin.

She ignored him, squinting past him into the night. She stilled as she caught sight of his car, and the figure waiting within.

"God, it's Rupert Giles." She pasted on a saccharine smile and parodied a finger-tip wave. "Must be something big going on, if you've dragged Jeeves away from his books."

"We need to talk to you," Angel told her. She turned unreadable dark eyes up to him, looking him up and down before cocking a hip and leaning against the doorframe. Getting comfortable.

"Did the divine Ms Chase pass on my message?" she drawled, crossing her arms.

"Cordy? Message? What message?" _I'm getting even more confused than I usually do with Faith._ Angel shook his head slightly, as if that might help things make sense. Faith in a mood wasn't unusual. Faith being confusing wasn't unusual. But on top of everything else that had been happening the past few days, it was just too bewildering.

"I dropped in to see you today," Faith said casually, as though she "dropped in" on him to share a pot of tea and cucumber sandwiches every other day. She uncrossed her arms, inspecting a nail. "Needed to talk. The prom queen said she'd let you know when you next checked in. You aren't answering your cell."

"I'm not?" Angel pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. "Huh. I must have turned it off some time. How about that?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Yeah, how 'bout that?" She straightened, and her voice changed. Getting serious now. "Look. Cordelia told me you were out of town. Why do you think I was surprised to see you on my doorstep?"

"That was 'surprised'?" Angel teased. She favoured him with a small smile. "Ok. So why did you need to see me?"

Faith turned her attention to the nails of her other hand. "Had a wicked strange dream," she said. "Felt all Slayer-like. I thought you might know if something is going down."

__

A dream. "Yeah. It is." Angel gestured back to Giles, still waiting patiently in the car. "Can we come in? We need to talk."

****************************************** 

Even though he had volunteered to accompany Angel on this expedition to talk with Faith, as he stepped over the threshold Giles wished fervently that he was anywhere but here.

His feelings towards Faith had always been mixed. 

There was the abhorrence of a Watcher towards a Slayer who had turned her back on her calling, and joined forces with those she had been chosen to fight. 

There was a sense of betrayal on behalf of Buffy, whom Faith had tried so hard to destroy. 

There was a certain wariness towards a girl that he had never been able to understand or feel close to, in the way that he did towards Buffy or Willow or Dawn.

However, the emotion at the forefront now, as he looked around the tiny flat, was guilt.

Although it was small, and furnished solely with hand-me-downs, he knew from Buffy's descriptions of Faith's motel lodgings in Sunnydale - somewhere he himself had never bothered to visit - that this home was vast improvement. Cluttered, warm, and with a definite charm, it was clearly a haven for Faith, and a sign of how much she had changed since he had last seen her. 

And he felt guilty because he knew that Faith had achieved this with virtually no help from anyone. Least of all himself.

Giles had sometimes wondered, if he hadn't been nursing his resentment at his own treatment by the Council, and dealing with Wesley's nervous attempt to be a Watcher, and concentrating solely on Buffy as "his" Slayer - if, in short, he had paid more attention to Faith and supported her during what must have been an extremely difficult time for her, whether things might have turned out very differently.

Despite everything, she had managed to pull herself together, according to Angel. She had spent several years in prison before an early release for "good behaviour" - and heaven help him, he still found it difficult to use that phrase in the same sentence as Faith. Under Angel's watchful eye, she had resumed Slayer duties, including training, and Wesley had also undertaken a Watcher's role in helping her develop her abilities. She had also, entirely on her own, secured a job in a gym downtown, offering self defence classes.

Physically, he thought, she had barely changed. She still looked like a tainted madonna - dark soulful eyes; a mass of long black hair; white skin; and sex appeal oozing from every pore. Black and white where Buffy was golden; angles and secrets where Buffy was curves and shadows. But both powerful, strong and determined. He remembered the dark harmony of watching them fight side-by-side, individual methods melding into a mesmerising show of force. If they could ever work together again, they would be unstoppable.

Putting his feelings of guilt and discomfort aside, Giles forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. Faith had curled up in the corner of a couch covered in some embroidered rug, and Angel sat down next to her. Giles looked around and found a wooden chair to perch on opposite. The three sat in silence for a moment, then Angel spoke.

"Tell us about your dream, Faith."

She frowned, looking away from Angel to stare into middle distance. "It was this dark cold space. Full of people, but I couldn't really see any of them properly. And there was one man standing in the middle ..." She trailed off as she saw Giles and Angel exchange a look, and turned to Angel. "What?"

"You're quite right, Faith," Giles said. "It was a prophetic dream. Buffy had the same one."

Faith shifted restlessly. "So what's it mean?" Her glance flickered to Giles and then away again.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Giles explained the prophecy, and Drusilla's subsequent assistance. By the time he was finished, Faith was leaning forward, eyes riveted on him.

"So you need me for some spell?" she asked. "Willow will work her mojo, and then do the slapdown on this Master guy?"

"Er, yes," Giles agreed, glancing helplessly at Angel for confirmation that he had interpreted this correctly. Angel shrugged. "We very much need your help, Faith."

She was silent for a moment, dark eyes studying him. "And what does B think about that?"

"Buffy? About your - return?" Giles paused. "I won't lie to you, Faith. Seeing you again is not top of her list of priorities. She will find it - hard - to deal with having you there." He fixed her with a stare. "But there is more at stake here - excuse the pun - than her history with you, and I _will_ make sure she realises that if necessary."

Their eyes held and caught, and Giles had the strange sensation that Faith was somehow reading his mind, checking to see if he was telling her the truth.

Slowly, she nodded. "Sure. Okay, I'm in." She stood suddenly. "You want to head back tonight? Give me ten to pack."

********************************************

Faith loved travelling by night. There was something about sitting, warm and cocooned inside a car, watching the dark world outside slip by, that made her feel safe and protected. She loved the green glow of light that came from the dashboard controls; she loved picking out the reflective cat's eyes running down the middle of the road; she loved the soft, soporific hum of the engine that seemed so much more soothing at night than during the day. It was like being in your own little world.

Best of all was sitting in the back seat, like now, leaning against the cool, hard window, half-awake and half-asleep, listening to the two people up front converse in low tones, as though they were trying not to disturb you. Somewhere, way back in her past, there must be a memory of this kind of experience buried in her sub-conscious, from when she was very young and before everything had gone wrong - with her mother, with her own life. Whatever. All she cared about, was that it made her feel good. And individual moments of feeling good was how Faith got through her life.

For a moment her thoughts wandered ahead, to Sunnydale, and then she turned them away with a mental shake of her head. No use worrying about that. There was nothing she could do about it, nothing she could change. She would just have to live through facing them all, and then it would be over, and she could get on with what she had come here to do.

__

Then it's back to nice, safe, normal LA, Faith thought to herself, with a smirk.

**********************************

Angel gently reached over to shake Faith's shoulder. "Wake up. We're here."

She came awake with a lunge, wrapping a hand around Angel's throat before realising who it was and letting go.

"Would you stop attacking me?" Angel complained, rubbing at his neck.

"Sorry," she said. "Stop being a baby. I didn't hurt you."

She grabbed her bag and climbed out of the car, leaving Angel to follow and ignoring his plaintive; "Did. A bit." She was here, she was about to face them, and she didn't have the time or inclination to joke around with Angel.

They were parked outside the mansion, which looked deserted until she realised that she could see faint golden light coming from the windows. Several cars were parked outside, none of which she recognised, but which she assumed must belong to some of the 'gang'. Faith took a deep breath, slung her bag over her shoulder, and followed Giles inside.

Nobody noticed them at first. The Scoobies were all seated on the couches round the fire, engrossed in something on the low table in front of them. Willow was there, and Xander, and Dawn and Buffy; and Spike. Faith had forgotten that he would be here, and she felt a frisson of relief at the sight of him. Spike had become a good friend; it made her feel better to know that he was there.

She hadn't moved, but suddenly both Buffy and Spike looked up and over at her. _Gotta love those Spidey senses_, Faith thought, standing up straight. She balanced her weight on both legs, shifting her grip on her bag, looking directly at Buffy. 

__

Couldn't really blame B if she attacked me ... Unable to help herself, Faith gave a smirk and tilted her head towards the other Slayer.

"Hey, B. Long time no see."

*********************************************

__

Oh God. She's here. 

Buffy rose slowly to her feet, turning to face Faith head-on, unable to keep herself from crossing her arms defensively in front of her.

"Hey B. Long time no see."

Buffy felt her lips quirk upwards in response. Same old brash fearless Faith. It was almost reassuring.

"Faith." She stopped, unable to think of anything else to say. _Oh God, now I sound like Angel, and Xander, and Giles, greeting people with just their name. Should I give an awkward little nod now?_ "Yeah. Long time."

Buffy felt Spike move beside her, and for a moment felt the old sense of assurance that came from knowing he was on her side. Then, she experienced a shock of loss as he moved away from her and towards Faith, enfolding the other Slayer in a bear hug.  


"Hello lamb."

Faith grinned up at him. "Spike, my man. So this is where you've been hiding yourself?" She gestured around the room in a graceful gesture.

"Not hiding." He gave her a last squeeze then turned to face the others with his arm still around her shoulders. Buffy had a sense of deja vu. What was this scene reminding her of? Then she realised - the one on her porch the other night, when Spike had first faced Xander and Willow. The look on his face was just like the one that Dawn had had when she had gone to his side. Protective. 

Faith's eyes flickered over to the others. Xander. Willow. Dawn. The hostility in the room was overwhelming.

Giles cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"I realise that the situation is somewhat awkward," he said, fixing his gaze on each of them. "And frankly, I don't care." Xander moved to speak, and Giles quelled him with a glare. "We have far more important things to worry about right now. If you want to fight it out, then you can wait until after."

Buffy's lips twitched. _You go, Giles._ Aloud, she queried innocently; "After the world has ended, Giles?"

His eyes shot to hers, surprised at the humour he read there. "Quite. When the world has ended, you may all kill each other. Is that clear?" He looked around with what Buffy has learned in recent years was a mock-glare. It still fooled the others, and they all hung their heads, but Buffy was unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. Against her will, she caught Faith's eye, and that was her undoing. A snort escaped her, and then she was giggling helplessly. Faith stared at her in amazement for a second, then she too began to laugh. Within minutes, the entire room was in fits of laughter, except for Giles, who stood with great calm in the centre of the storm.

"They used to respect me," he murmured with simulated sorrow. Dawn flew over and wrapped her arms around him. 

"We still respect you, Giles!" she insisted. "We're not laughing at you. We're laughing - near you."

Giles allowed a faint smile to appear. Then, he too joined in the general laughter.

****

TBC


	9. Rock and Roll, Baby

****

CHAPTER NINE - ROCK AND ROLL, BABY

It was rare that Buffy felt as though she was getting in the way, and she didn't like the feeling one little bit. After years of being The Slayer, and Dawn's Big Sister, and The Teacher Miss Summers, she had gotten used to being the one in authority, the one that everyone looked to in times of need.

And now, she was not only feeling useless in discussing the upcoming battle against the Order of Aurelius (_not even going to be the one fighting the Master - just have to sit there holding hands with Faith, of all people)_ but she had to admit that she was also feeling superfluous around both Angel and Spike.

She had never fully realised how much she took for granted being the centre of attention, especially with the two vampires. It was an eye-opener to realise that she was jealous of both Dru, and Faith, for their close relationship with the two men that she considered somehow "hers". And like all moments of self-realisation, it was making Buffy feel a bit uncomfortable.

__

It is pathetic, though, she grumbled to herself. _Two grown vampires, acting like mother hens with their chicks. Spike fussing over Drusilla; Angel fussing over Faith. Angel mothering Drusilla; Spike mothering Faith._

It was the latter combination that she was directing her scowl at now, while listening to Giles go over the battle strategy one more time. They were just awaiting the final sign from the prophecy, the earthquake that would happen some time in the next three days during the full moon, which Drusilla believed was the sign that the ritual could take place. The proclamation that the time was at hand when the Master could finally, irrevocably, be destroyed.

__

Third time's the charm, Buffy told herself.

Her frown deepened as she watched Drusilla clutch Angel's hand in both of hers, drawing comfort from him as she listened to Giles. It was just _wrong_, somehow, watching Angel hold hands with someone else. Even though there was nothing remotely romantic or sexual about it, it still gave her the wiggins.

However, if Buffy had to be completely honest, it was the sight of Faith and Spike, slouching side by side on one of the sofas, that really disturbed her.

Both the epitome of loose-limbed grace, sprawled like big cats, with legs stretched out in front, heads lolling against the back of the sofa, half-lidded eyes watching what was going on around them. Every so often, one of them would murmur something that only the other could hear, eliciting a smirk or low chuckle.

Buffy twitched irritably as Faith muttered something, sparking a rumble of laughter from Spike. What had she said? Why did Spike find her so amusing? For some reason, it was driving Buffy up the wall.

At long last, Giles drew the meeting to a close, and with a sigh of relief that she only just managed to keep hidden, Buffy rose and made her way out through the french windows into the courtyard. It was a clear, cool night, and she felt the need to blow some cobwebs out of her brain and get some perspective from star-gazing.

She perched against the wall and tilted her head back, staring up at the pinpricks of cold light so far above her. A few deep breaths, and she was beginning to feel better. One of Alison's hobbies was astronomy, and Buffy had spend many hours with her, looking up at the heavens, learning some of the constellations but preferring to just relax and gaze up at them until everything swirled together in a silver blur.

The serenity had started to have its desired effect on her, when she heard (or was it 'sensed'?) Spike nearby. Immediately the tension flooded back into her.

Looking down from the skies, Buffy met his eyes. He cocked his head slightly and raised a packet of cigarettes.

"Mind if I ...?" he asked.

She shook her head, watching as he shook out a cigarette and brought it to his lips.

__

It's enough to make me want to take up smoking, she thought as he tilted his head, sheltering the flame of his lighter, the planes and angles of his face highlighted momentarily by the flare of gold, eyes lowered, dark lashes lying against his cheek.

He inhaled deeply, lifting his head to catch her staring at him, and she jerked her eyes away, flustered.

"Buffy? What's up?" She felt him move towards her. "You've been all skittish all day."

"I'm fine." She searched her mind for an excuse. _Faith. That's always a good one_. "It's having Faith here - gives me the wiggins."

Spike took another drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly before speaking again.

"Look, pet, I don't know your story with Faith. I've heard bits from her, less from Angel and Wes. But it was a long time ago, Buffy, and she's not the same person she was back then. Working for that Mayor, doing those things - she wouldn't make that choice again. She's changed. And she's here to help."

Buffy chuckled dryly. "Yeah. I know that. But I can't help it. If it was just the helping-the-Mayor thing, or the trying-to-kill-Angel-and-Willow thing, or the lying-to-us-all thing ... maybe I'd be able to forgive her. But the stealing-my-body, sleeping-with-my-boyfriend, and trying-to-take-over-my-life thing - I'm finding that kinda hard to deal with."

Spike looked taken aback. "The what-with-your-body? And - the other stuff?"

"Haven't you heard that story?" She settled back against the wall again. "When Faith woke up from the coma, she found a way to make us switch bodies. I was in her body, she was in mine. And while I was being dragged back to England by the Council for all sorts of not-fun and games, she was busy living the life with Riley, and God know what else."

Spike went very still. "When was this?" he asked.

"About ... seven, eight years ago."

He tilted back his head and laughed. "It was her! Not you."

"Her, not me, what?" Buffy asked suspiciously.

"I met her. You." Spike tried to explain. "It must have been. In the Bronze, all dressed up in black - and not much of it. You - she - was..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

Buffy gritted her teeth, rage rising up in her. _I'll kill Faith. _"What. Did. She. Do?"

Spike stepped towards her, trying to look concerned but unable to hide his amusement. "Nothing too bad, Buffy. She was just - flirtatious."

"What did she say?"

He took another step closer, amusement winning out, along with a hint of desire prompted by his memories. His voice was low, husky, and dangerously seductive.

"Something about riding me at gallop." Another step. "Making my legs buckle." Step. "Popping me like warm champagne." Step. "And then hurting me just a _little _bit more." 

He was far too close now. Only a breath away. And he was doing that thing with his tongue, curling it up against his teeth ...

"You promised me all that, love," he murmured, smiling wickedly. "And you more than delivered. On every. Last. Word."

Buffy's stomach clenched as memories of the nights - and days - spent lost in lust swept over her. God, the things they had done together, things she had never imagined trying, let alone enjoying. Mixed in with her shame at sleeping with Spike, and her worry at her friends finding out and judging her, had been the fear that there was something wrong with her, that she was some kind of sexual pervert for enjoying those things ...

With the benefit of hindsight - and numerous women's magazines and conversations with Anya - she could now recognise that she had just been too inexperienced and too young to recognise that sex games and experiments were perfectly normal.

And at this precise moment in time, frozen before Spike's blue gaze, she couldn't help wondering - didn't want to stop wondering - what it would be like to be with Spike now?

She allowed her eyes to lick over him, as he had done to her. Still one hell of a fine body on the man - how had he described it once? - a hot, tight little body. The description had repulsed her at the time, then later she had laughed a bit, but now she could admit that it described him perfectly.

A little devil whispered in her mind. _What if ...? _And she made up her mind.

Buffy looked back into his eyes and very deliberately bit down on her lower lip.

The air hitched in his chest, and he lowered his head so that he moved ever so slightly closer to her. 

A shiver ran up her spine. 

__

That's the Spike I know. And he still belongs to me ...

She tilted her head slightly, the perfect angle for a kiss, but didn't move any closer ... still a hair's breadth - too far - away. Lowering her eyes to look at his mouth, her eyelashes brushed against his cheek, and he growled softly.

Very slowly, Buffy leaned forward and caught Spike's lower lip very lightly between her teeth for a second. Then she released it and gently, so gently, kissed him.

He remained perfectly motionless, and after a moment she pulled back, confused and embarrassed. Oh god, had she read him completely wrong? She was making an idiot of herself.

Buffy stepped back quickly, forcing herself to look him in the face. What she saw confused her further. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed, and he was breathing deeply in and out, as though he was trying to regain a control that she wasn't aware he had lost.

"I'm ... sorry?" she offered hesitantly.

He opened his eyes and glared at her. "You bloody well should be."

Her mouth dropped open, embarrassment forgotten. "Rude much?" she asked indignantly.

Spike began pacing in front of her. "I'm many things, Buffy, but stupid isn't one of them. I saw the look on your face tonight, and I know you're feeling all left out because this latest apocalypse isn't All. About. Buffy. And then there's Angel too wrapped up in his wounded girls to spend time angsting with you. So you decide that you can get your attention quota from old Spike here. Well, it's been a long time since I was your lapdog, and I'm not planning on taking on the job again any time soon. And, frankly, I'd expect better from you."

Buffy crossed her arms and glared at him. "Are you quite finished there? Because I've had enough of your pop-psychology based on your comprehensive knowledge of me over the past five years. Oh, wait. You haven't seen me or spoken to me in over five years. So I guess that must mean that you're - let's see - completely and utterly wrong."

He nodded his head in a way that screamed "sarcastically". "Right. I'm completely wrong. So why don't you tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm definitely not so desperate for attention that I'd drag you out here to jump your undead bones," Buffy told him. "Okay, so I admit that I'm finding it strange that I won't be more involved in the fight against the Master. And yes, it's more than weird to have both Drusilla and Faith here, and to see you and Angel so close to them both. But that's not why I kissed you."

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"Because I ..." Her voice trailed off, and mentally she gathered her courage. _I'm going to have to do this. _"Well, I kissed you because I wanted to."

"You wanted to," he repeated. "Now that I'm all soul-having, it's all right for you to fancy me?"

"Your soul has nothing to do with why I 'fancy' you," Buffy retorted.

Spike opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. There was silence for a long moment. 

"You ... fancy me?" His voice was so soft she almost missed the question.

"Well, yes," Buffy answered in an isn't-it-obvious? tone. "I can't remember any more when I didn't fancy you. I just didn't want to admit it to myself before now."

"But now that I have the soul ..." he began again.

She rolled her eyes. "I told you, it has nothing to do with the soul. I don't know why. I always thought that a soul was the most important thing. But for some reason, that's not what I've been thinking about over the past few days. It's what you said to me. About how you felt - after attacking me in the bathroom."

He tried to turn away, but Buffy caught his arm and forced him to face her. "It was knowing that you really, deep down, in your heart, in your soul if you prefer, regretted it. After it happened - I was hurt, and I was angry, and I hated you. But after time passed, I realised that I wasn't angry, or hating, any more. And I felt as though I should. You'd tried to rape me, so therefore I should always hate you. I thought there was something wrong with me for being able to get over something like that.

"But when I saw you again, the other day, and listened to you, I realised that it was okay for me to get over it. And then I realised that I _was _over it, and I had been for a while. And that meant that I could admit to myself, that there was something ... that I ... well, that I had feelings for you ..." It was Buffy's turn to move away. "Am I making any sense here?"

"Not really." He sounded shaken. "And - perfectly." He took a deep breath. "So, what does it all mean?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't have to mean anything. Not if you don't want it to. I just thought I should let you know how I felt. You were always so brave in telling me how you felt, even though you knew how I'd react. I thought you deserved the same honesty from me."

"Buffy." 

At the sound of her name, she turned to look at him, and found herself enveloped in his arms. She wrapped her own arms firmly around his waist, holding on tight.

"Buffy, I don't know what anything means any more," he murmured against her cheek. "My whole existence has been turned upside down since I met you. All I know for certain is how good it feels right now to hold you."

Buffy tilted her head up and smiled. "Then just hold me until it doesn't feel right any more."

He grinned back at her, a full, wide, open smile that made her breath catch. "That sounds perfect."

Just as he finished speaking, the earth began to rock beneath their feet, and a roaring filled their ears. The tremor lasted for just a few seconds, then everything settled down again, leaving them staring at each other.

"So, did the earth move for you, pet?" Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She chuckled. "It sure did. And I bet it's made Giles' day. Come on, we'd better find out what's going on. I think that was our wake-up call."

****

TBC


	10. In the Still of the Night

**CHAPTER TEN – IN THE STILL OF THE NIGHT**

The full moon was so bright it cast dark shadows along the streets of Sunnydale. Thin wisps of clouds scudded across its face, and the light breeze whispered through the tops of trees, creating a steady rustling that washed continuously through the night. It drowned out any sounds the silent figures that darted from black shadow to black shadow may have made as they made their way through the slumbering streets towards the site of Sunnydale's Hellmouth.

They split up into groups, approaching the Hellmouth from different angles, and taking out any stray vampires that may be heading in the same direction. The remains of the old high school were still standing – well, sort of. Nothing had been built to replace it, and the site stayed cordoned off, avoided by the general populace. Sometimes it seemed as though the townsfolk weren't as clueless as they pretended to be about the monsters that walked in their midst.

Buffy, Alison and Drusilla circled round to approach the Hellmouth from the west. Drusilla stayed mainly silent, and Buffy had the strange impression that she was listening to sounds that no one else could hear.

At one point, Drusilla came abruptly to a halt and pointed off to the left. Following the direction she indicated, Buffy walked a short way down an alley, and came across a group of three vampires, just outside the range of her own senses. They seemed surprised to see her, and she staked two of them before they had time to put up a defence. The third chose to run rather than fight, heading straight for the Hellmouth, and it was Alison who fired a bolt from her crossbow straight through its heart.

Without any other distractions, they were soon at the school, and they took up their positions, waiting for the others.

Faith, Dawn and Willow made their approach from the east, detouring to the Magic Box to pick up supplies on the way. Willow and Dawn carefully selected the items that would be needed while Faith kept watch, pacing from window to door and back again. Her restlessness unsettled the other two, and they collected their supplies as quickly as they could.

As they made their way through the dark town, Faith continually disappeared down side streets every few minutes, returning once with a long scratch down her cheek after an encounter of the fanged kind.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked, concerned.

Faith dabbed at the scratch with her sleeve, inspecting the resulting bloodiness. She shrugged. "Yeah, fine. One vamp got a little fresh, but I told him I was looking for a more solid relationship." She snickered at her own joke, then stopped when she realised the others were just staring at her. "Get it? Solid, as in not dust?"

"We get it, Faith," Dawn said. "It's - funny."

Faith scowled. "You're pretty smart for a green blob of energy ..."

Willow interrupted. "Guys. Let's just get there and do this, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Faith muttered. "Let's go get 'em."

Approaching from the south, Giles was becoming sure that Angel was doing it purposely to annoy him. One second he was there, walking beside him. The next he had disappeared without a sound. Then, silently, he was at Giles' side again, walking in step. The fourth time it happened, Giles had had enough.

"For God's sake," he scolded in a whisper. "Make up your mind, will you? You're fluttering around like a debutante at her first ball."

"I'm not fluttering," Angel said, affronted. "I'm scouting. And being stealthy." He tripped over a paving stone.

Giles sighed. "Bloody marvellous."

Spike and Xander moved silently through the town from the north, each with an axe slung over their shoulder. They were silent for the most part, but as they neared their destination, Spike began to get the feeling that Xander was watching him. Whenever he looked over at Xander, however, the other was studiously looking in another direction, seemingly determined not to catch his eye.

At last Spike could take it no longer.

"C'mon, Harris, what's your problem? Too shy to ask if we can hold hands?"

"Yeah, in your dreams, fang boy." The retort seemed to be instinctive, and Spike could almost see Xander bite his tongue. Whatever it was he wanted to say, insulting Spike obviously wasn't it. Curious, Spike waited to see what he would say next.

After a few minutes, Xander continued. "I was just wondering, you know. About the soul. What it feels like. Whether it really makes that much difference. Well, I know it does make it a difference. Obviously, it does. But ..."

His voice trailed off, and Spike let the silence build for a moment. He didn't feel that he owed Xander any kind of an explanation. But then again, the boy had been a good friend to Buffy for many years, so maybe he did deserve something.

"The soul ... it doesn't make black white or anything like that," he said slowly. "It's not that simple. I still have the same urges, and feelings, and desires. I still enjoy a good fight. I still crave blood. I still feel the force of the Dark Side." He slanted a look at Xander, and saw him trying to hide a grin.

"I s'pose the biggest difference the soul makes is making me see things from the other fellow's point of view. Putting myself in someone else's shoes. Makes it difficult to harm them, you know. Makes you want to try to make things a bit easier for them, instead."

Suddenly, Spike realised that he did have something to say to Harris. "You, for instance." Xander looked surprised and a bit wary. "Always saw you as a pain in the arse, hanging around with these powerful women, making jokes at the wrong time, getting in my way. I could never understand why Buffy didn't tell you to take a walk."

"Because she's my friend," Xander said, sounding angry.

"No, mate," Spike told him gently. "Because you're her friend. And that's the one thing she's always needed, more than anything else."

Suddenly, Spike stopped moving and raised his head, listening. Then he glanced at Xander, game face on, yellow eyes glowing. "We're here."

"They're here."

Buffy glanced at Drusilla, and nodded her agreement. She, too, could sense the presence of the others, the supernatural awareness of Spike, Angel and Faith tugging at her senses. Taking even more care to be silent, she led Drusilla and Alison through the ruins of the school, picking her way over the rubble towards the old library.

Suddenly, she saw movement ahead, and froze, before realising that it was Spike and Xander she could see, crouching on either side of the library doorway. One door hung crookedly from its hinges, while the other was completely missing. She could see a faint light coming from inside, but it was too dark to see any shapes or movement. They would be going in blind.

For a moment, her confidence failed. Then, as though he read her thoughts, Spike's head swung round and his eyes met hers. Slowly, a grin spread across his features, and she felt a fizz of excitement projecting from him.

_He's enjoying this,_ she realised. Against her will, an answering smile crept across her own face, and she shook her head slightly. _Ah, what the hell. Might as well have some fun, since we're here._

His grin broadened, and he turned back to nod at Xander. They were ready and waiting.

Giles and Xander stepped forward from the shadows behind Buffy just as Faith, Willow and Dawn emerged from the corridor to the right. The sound of Giles drawing his sword was the signal. Almost immediately, Xander and Spike raised their axes and exploded into the room, with Buffy, Faith and Angel hot on their heels. Giles took a moment to exchange glances with Willow then, with a brief smile, he followed Dawn into the library, swords swinging.

For a moment, it seemed like chaos. Giles could see the others cutting a swathe through the figures in the room, dust swirling around them. Then, a vampire was in front of him, and he joined the melee.

It was time. Willow took a deep breath and held out her hands, linking with Alison and Drusilla. Closing her eyes, she felt their individual strength, their power, flow through her. Quietly, she began chanting the words of the spell.

Buffy plunged her stake through the heart of yet another vampires then whirled around, ready for the next. With Faith by her side, Spike and Angel behind her, Xander, Giles and Dawn nearby, they were creating havoc in the confined area. There were a lot of vampires around, but they were more than holding their own, and as far as she could see, no serious injuries had been taken on her side, while the dust of numerous vampires lay on the floor and floated in the air. And any minute now, it would be time for Willow to take centre stage.

The first part of the spell was over. A deep calm settled over Willow as she opened her eyes and stared into library. She was ready.

Slowly, she moved forward, sensing the other two fall into place behind her. She passed over the threshold of the library and paused, taking in the scene before her. Then she held up her arms and cried: "Cease!"

The word echoed through the room. As though bewitched, everyone stopped fighting, and turned to face the girl standing by the broken doors. She stood tall and straight, staring in front of her, face calm and pale. Without another word uttered, a path cleared down the middle of the room, until nothing stood between the witch and her prey.

The Master.


	11. Save the Last Dance

**CHAPTER ELEVEN – SAVE THE LAST DANCE**

He stood motionless, a figure clothed in black. His features were unrecognisable, human features, handsome features, but the aura of darkness, of evil, that surrounded him was unmistakable.

His eyes met hers and a smile curved his lips.

"You're too late," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Here I am."

Staring straight into his eyes, Willow began to speak. The second stage of the spell was about to begin.

"_The strength of she who came to power_

_The strength of she who should not be_

_Join together to forge the weapon_

_The tool to destroy the enemy_"

Like sleepwalkers, Buffy and Faith moved out from the crowd, walking towards Willow. Standing on either side of her, they each took hold of one of her hands.

"_Share the strength, share the power_

_An offering made freely_

_Share the power, share the strength_

_I take the offering made to me."_

As Willow spoke the final words, a change came over her. A blinding white light seemed to flash from beneath her skin and rippled over her. Then, she stepped away from the two Slayers who flanked her, leaving them standing motionless as she moved relentlessly towards the Master.

Those remaining in the room made way as Willow glided past them, moving towards the figure standing at the far end; even the billowing dust appearing to part for her.

The sneer on the Master's face faded slightly.

"What is it you plan to do, witch?" he asked with genuine curiosity. "How do you suppose that you alone can destroy me when so many others have failed?"

When Willow spoke, it was as though there was a slight echo that repeated every syllable a split second later. "We are never alone," she answered. "The two hands shall guide the shade, and we shall destroy you once and for all."

A frown appeared on the Master's face. Lifting his head, he stared across the room at Drusilla, flanked by Spike and Angel. Then his gaze fell on Buffy and Faith, standing like statues.

He looked at Willow, now standing next to him with a calm smile on her face. "What is it you have done, witch?"

Then, faster than the eye could follow, he reached out a hand to grab Willow around the throat.

Before anyone else had time to register the attack, let alone act upon it, Willow had leant backwards, seeming to melt away from his arm, so that he swung around harmlessly, his momentum carrying him on. Then, like quicksilver, Willow moved behind him, slipping one arm around his neck and laying her other arm against his chest.

Almost inaudibly, she began to chant, her power a tangible presence in the room. As she spoke, the figure of the Master began to sag in her arms, almost collapsing in on itself. Gradually it became clear that he was turning very slowly to dust. As he began to lose his human shape, he threw back his head and released a scream of pure agony that reverberated throughout the room, shaking the walls and dislodging lumps of plaster and masonry.

A black cloud appeared as the last dust fell to the floor in front of Willow, hovering above the ground. Willow held out her hands and continued to speak. Sparks appeared in the black cloud, until all at once it ignited and finally disappeared.

Willow sagged and would have fallen if Xander hadn't rushed to her side and caught her. The glow that had emanated from her as she confronted the Master dissipated, and as though waking up, Faith and Buffy blinked and looked around.

"That was wicked cool," Faith announced.

"And kind of weird," Buffy added. One minute she had been looking out at the world through Willow's eyes, feeling the combined power of two Slayers and a witch; the next she was back in her own skin. She looked around, getting her bearings, and realised that something strange was happening.

With the Master's dust still floating to the floor, a low wailing could be heard through the room. As Buffy watched, a vampire standing in front of her, a female vampire that Buffy could tell had only recently been turned, fell to her knees and began a keening that sent shivers down Buffy's spine. Then, just as the Master had done, this vampire began to slowly dust, limbs turned to grey powder, features blurring and disintegrating. After a long couple of minutes, the vampire finally dissipated, leaving the same black mist that had appeared from the Master. This time, however, it was only visible for a couple of seconds before sparks began to appear; then the mist combusted and disappeared.

Buffy turned to look at Willow, confused. "Will, what …" Her attention was caught by another recent vampire beginning to dust. "What is going on here?"

Willow shook her head. "I don't know, Buff."

Giles cleared his throat. "I - I think I do. It's to do with the Master." He looked at Buffy. "Once the Master ceased to exist, his line ceases to exist. All the vampires in his line … starting with the newest."

Buffy stared at him as his words penetrated. "But - that means …" She whirled around to find the three vampires standing at the back of the room.

Spike.

Angel.

Drusilla.

Drusilla was swaying slightly as though dancing to an unheard tune, her dark eyes fixed on the disintegrating vampire.

Angel met Buffy's eyes and shrugged slightly. He had his poker face on.

Spike lit a cigarette.

Buffy found her voice. "But that means that you are going to dust."

Angel's voice was gentle. "We knew it was a possibility, Buff. We'd heard stories."

"You KNEW?" A world of hurt was in Buffy's voice. "You knew, and you didn't say anything?"

"We weren't totally sure. Besides, it was a risk we had to take. Destroying the Master was the priority here."

Buffy hated Angel's reasonable voice. His "I'm doing this for your own good" voice. "We could have come up with something to protect you …"

Spike interrupted. "Much as I hate saying it, Angel's right. We couldn't have anything distracting you lot from what had to be done, love." He took a drag on his cigarette and held it for moment before blowing out a streamer of smoke. "Don't mind dying for a good cause, anyway."

Buffy's throat closed up as she choked back tears. "But I don't want you to die …"

Spike's blue eyes met hers and held them steadily. "I know, pet. But - "

He was cut off as his body stiffened and jerked, and Buffy watched in horror as the now familiar slo-mo dusting process began. The cigarette he was holding fell from his fingers and arced to the floor, scattering sparks, and a low moan forced its way out of his throat.

Buffy had to make herself watch as Spike's beautiful eyes filled with agony and he fell to his knees. _I won't turn away from him,_ she told herself fiercely,_ I won't let him die alone …_

But something was different.

_He's not dusting …_

The black mist oozed out of Spike's body and hovered in front of him, tiny sparks appearing through it.

_He's not dusting …_

Spike's jaw clenched as he struggled to hold in another scream.

_He's not dusting …_

The black mist seemed to coalesce, then all at once it streamed back into Spike's body, and like a dropped doll he collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

As he lay there, the process began with Drusilla, and Buffy watched open-mouthed as exactly the same thing happened to her. Agony, mist, then collapse to the floor. And then again with Angel.

Buffy took a step closer, and sensed her friends just behind her as they stared at the three sprawled figures on the floor.

Xander spoke first. "Um, what just happened?"

Before anyone could answer, Spike stirred, then jerked to a sitting position.

"Bloody hell!" he said, feeling behind him. "That hurt!" He brandished his lit cigarette in front of him, rubbing at his back. "Maybe I should think about giving up."

"Colour me confused," Xander said. "Why, what and how? And huh?"

"Yeah, what he just said," Faith said. "Aren't you all supposed to be big piles o' dust right about now?"

Drusilla lifted her hands in front of her face as though checking they were still there.

"You sound disappointed," Angel said. He got to his feet and helped Drusilla up. "Man, that was weird."

"You're telling us," Buffy said. She watched Spike clamber to his feet, brushing dust off his jeans. "Wait, no, you're not telling us. What the hell just happened?"

"Don't know, pet," he replied. "Felt bloody horrible, though. As though my insides were being yanked out. Then they had a good look round, decided they didn't think much of things, and jumped back in with a bang."

"Well, I'd assume it's to do with their souls," Giles stated. "We can do some research later, but it seems the obvious conclusion. Their souls prevented the destruction of the line of Aurelius from affecting them." He looked around. "Well, I'd say it's all gone according to plan. The Master destroyed once and for all, scores of vampires dusted - except for those that fight on our side - and no losses in our team. Well done, Willow. Excellent job."

"I'd like to second that "excellent job" with a hearty "yay"," said Xander. "You kicked some ugly Master butt, and dusted all the vampires that aren't our friends. I'd say that deserves some warm, weak beer, out of a soggy paper cup, at the Bronze." He looked around. "Those in favour, say "Aye"?"

"Best plan I've heard tonight," Spike said. "Well, except for yours, Rupert. Of course."

They started to leave the library. Buffy lingered behind, watching the others walk in front of her chatting amongst themselves. She felt pretty darned good. Of course, she wasn't going to say it out loud, just in case – she'd learnt that lesson. But she'd faced a few demons from her past over the last week – both literally and metaphorically. And she felt better for it. Stronger. She saw Spike turn his head and catch her eye, and she quickened her step. The future? Well, it didn't pay to look too far ahead – not if you're the Slayer and you live on the Hellmouth. But, at this precise moment, she thought it looked pretty good.

THE END

_Author's note: I've felt guilty for years for not finishing this story, even thought it was virtually all written. I've decided to post it now although it's been such a long time! I'm so sorry._


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